


Paparazzi

by starlight_and_seafire



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-01-04 17:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_and_seafire/pseuds/starlight_and_seafire
Summary: Rey Kenobi is an aspiring photographer struggling to survive when she meets Poe Dameron, Hollywood heartthrob and reclusive celebrity. Together they concoct a way to allow Rey to escape the clutches of Unkar Plutt, the head of a paparazzi company stalking celebrities and a ruthless man who has a stranglehold on the lives of those unlucky enough to work for him.But then again, when has anything ever gone to plan?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: Rey is dealing with the fallout from an abusive relationship. Further, this story delves into the "business" relationship between Rey and Unkar Plutt (essentially she's in debt bondage to him) reminiscent to what we've been shown in the canon materials. Let me know if you want any further details before reading.
> 
> Also, there's cursing, and there will be smut later in this story.

_Shit, shit, shit_, Rey can’t help but think to herself, gritting her teeth as she dashes through the rain, darting past a mother in a hooded raincoat pushing a covered stroller hastily down the street. She needs to catch this bus, but between the rain and a wrong turn, she’s running behind.

She turns the corner only to see the bus pull away from the curb, a spray of water coming from its back tires as it accelerates.

_Shit_.

She aimlessly plods on about half a block more and halfheartedly considers taking cover in the little bakery and café next to her. Then she realizes she probably looks like a drowned rat, the water pouring off her as the heavy rain continues to fall, and she thinks she’ll be kicked out before she’s even put both feet inside the door.

Instead, she takes two more steps and sits down on a bench lining the sidewalk. It’s not covered, nor does the rain let up, but she sits there, heaving out a sigh even as her shoulders slump. She sniffs hard, trying to hold back the tears.

She has a little bit of dignity left, after all.

But then she figures that no one would notice a cascade of tears amongst the rainfall, so she just tries her best to tamp down the sobs as she finally cries.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there crying. But it’s a testament to how far she’s gone, how upset she really is, that it takes her a minute to realize that the rain is no longer pouring over her, that her tears are no longer hidden, and that there is someone standing next to her holding an umbrella over her head.

She chokes on a gasp and coughs, and the man standing next to her startles, leaning down a little to peer at her a bit closer.

“Are you alright? Do you need some water? I can go inside and get you some, if you’d like.”

Rey hastily swipes a hand across her face, trying to wipe away the worst of the rain and her tears. “No. No, I’m fine. Didn’t realize anyone was standing there.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Rey sees the man glance uncertainly at the shop behind them and then back to her, concern written all over his face.

Rey shakes her head, although she’s distracted by the annoying little sensation at the back of her mind that there’s something incredibly familiar about this man, even with his features partially obscured due to his hooded raincoat, that she can’t quite place.

She considers him for a moment. Even though he stands close enough to cover them both with his umbrella, with his body angled away from her, she doesn’t consider this unknown man to be a threat. He’s attractive, that’s for sure, warm brown eyes set amongst a handsome face, a dark brown curl escaping from underneath his hood. His boots and jeans coupled with the dark raincoat are casual enough, but it’s still easy to tell they’re probably more expensive than the entirety of her closest combined, maybe even her photography equipment.

Her eyes widen in realization a moment later.

“You’re Poe Dameron,” she just barely manages to whisper. Her boss would kill to get his hands on a photograph of this man, this world renown star of several blockbusters, Oscar-winning actor, and notoriously elusive celebrity. It’s practically impossible to capture a picture of this man outside of red carpet events or award shows.

The only time she had even come close was at one of his movie premieres. He had been highly praised for his work in the movie, where he starred as a CIA agent sent on an undercover mission to retrieve vital information from an old informant and personal friend of his boss in an effort to prevent all-out war by a secretive and powerful fascist organization.

Rey halfway wondered if the reason his performance was so good was because he was actually an ex-spy. That would certainly explain his skill at avoiding the paparazzi outside of those events.

But even at the movie premiere, she managed to miss out on taking a picture of Poe Dameron. Although she had taken photos of several of his co-stars, she had missed his entrance due to a freak incident. Luckily it had involved a cute dog that happily licked her face as she returned him to his handler, but she still winced at the reaction from her boss when she told him later that there was no picture of the star.

She sees the man’s lips curl into a sheepish grin barely a moment later. “That’s me,” he says, huffing out an awkward laugh. “I should probably mention I recognize you too.”

Her eyes widen further, this time in horror. “Oh no, no, no. I didn’t even know you were here, honest. I’m not gonna try to take your picture or anything,” she says, words stumbling out of her. Although her boss does occasionally have her take on a more respectable gig (even if she can never quite earn anything more than a minuscule fee from him, she thinks with a stab of anger), she knows what people think of what she does to earn a living. She’s a paparazzi; not exactly a favorite of celebrities.

But she has to eat.

Her boss normally only pays for the candid stuff, the stuff that the respected photographers don’t get, the photos that infringe upon the private lives of the famous. But she does have standards, a moral line that she won’t cross even if it means she might have to go hungry. She tries not to invade people’s privacy too deeply, and she sure as hell wouldn’t take a picture that could really upset someone.

She’s taken a fair amount of pictures of celebs eating out and grabbing coffee from Starbucks though. She’s taken pictures of them coming from the gym or while they walk up to a TV studio for an interview.

But she knows she’s never gotten a candid of Poe Dameron, and even if she had still been standing there on the red carpet when he arrived for the premiere, it’s unlikely he would have noticed her in a sea of photographers. But still, it’s probably no secret that she works for Unkar Plutt, formerly one of the most skilled — and most hated — paparazzi around, and now the boss of his own little empire.

She’s worked for him the last few years, long enough to earn herself the nickname _Scavenger_.

Like she said, she hates it. But right now, she’s flapping her hands around in some strange motion she hopes is conveying to him _don’t worry, I’m not here to infringe upon your privacy_, but she’s pretty sure she’s just coming off as a lunatic.

His sheepish grin devolves into something warmer, more relaxed, and he holds out a placating hand. “I’m not worried about that. I just meant we haven’t been formally introduced,” he says with a teasing grin

“I’m Rey. Rey Kenobi,” she says, words coming out in a rush even as her panic starts to dampen in the face of that grin directed at her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rey Kenobi. I saw you running after the bus. Did you need a ride somewhere? My car’s around the corner.”

She stares at him for a moment, perplexed. “You don’t even know me.”

He shrugs. “You don’t really know me, either. But I’m pretty sure you won’t try to kill me or anything, and you look like you could use a ride. And to get out of the rain, too.”

She can feel the chill of the rain through her shirt and knows that her jeans are absolutely soaked through as well. It’s the clammy, miserable feeling of wet socks on her feet that sells her on the idea, though.

She glances up at him wearily, all the turmoil of the day suddenly leaving her exhausted. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind . . .”

That warm smile blooms across his face again. “Not at all,” he says, gesturing down the sidewalk towards the next street. “After you.”

***

Poe leads her around the block, where his car sits parked along the side of the street. The car doesn’t particularly stand out, not amongst the line of other luxury cars dotting the city street, the shiny black exterior just one of many out there.

He walks her to the passenger side of the car, both of them still huddling under the umbrella, before saying, “Just one second.” He holds the umbrella above her head even as he reaches into the backseat, briefly leaving his own head exposed to the rain, and tosses something into the front seat before opening her door.

She sees a handful of towels on both her seat and his now, and she quickly lines her seat with some before getting in. She does the same for his seat as he closes her door and dashes around to the driver’s side, shaking out the umbrella even as he hurriedly gets in to the car.

She’s rubbing at her own clothes with an extra towel, trying to hide her confusion as to why Poe Dameron seems to have a plethora of them in his car. Despite the handful he tossed in the front, she still sees plenty more in the backseat.

He must notice her looking as he says, “My dog, BB, has made it his mission in life to jump in every pool, creek, or mud puddle that he sees. The towels have saved my car on many occasions.”

“BB? Is that short for something?”

“Not really,” he says, before grinning playfully. “Sometimes I think it might be short for Beelzebub, though.”

She can’t help but laugh, even as he continues, “Nah, but seriously. He’s the best, even when he’s tracking mud everywhere.” He starts the car, and she’s grateful when he turns the heat on slightly, just enough to chase away the damp chill. “So, where you heading to?”

She gives him directions to her apartment — _at least for a few more days_, she thinks wryly — and he pulls away from the curb and guides them into traffic with ease.

She thinks she should be more worried about getting into a stranger’s car, even if it is Poe Dameron, but she’s not worried, not with the warmth and easy-going nature he naturally exudes. They banter for a bit as he navigates the roads, even as the rain slows traffic down to a crawl.

She gets why the world seems so utterly charmed by him.

_You’ve been wrong about people before_, she thinks, wincing as the stray thought crosses her mind.

They’re stopped at a red light, and he’s turned to look at her, and something must cross her face, as his face becomes softer, more concerned, once more.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever led to you sitting on the bench in the middle of the pouring rain. You don’t have to, of course, but I’ve been told that I’m a good listener.”

“Oh really. Who’s told you that?” she asks, trying to tease him a little in an attempt to deflect the question.

“BB,” he says, recognizing her comment for what it is. Still, the unexpected answer draws a bark of laughter from her, and he grins. “But seriously. I can listen if you want to talk about it.”

She’s still wildly off balance from the day she’s had, the unexpected meeting of the highly elusive Poe Dameron, and the million questions that swirl through her mind about her uncertain future . . .

Still, it surprises her at how easily it all slips out, the story pouring forth from her lips despite her private nature.

She tells him about her boyfriend, the guy she kept accepting back even though she knew — _she knew_ — just how bad of a guy he was, how emotionally unstable and seemingly on the verge of violence he was at most times. _She knew_, but still, she had always been so alone, and there he was, and though she should’ve known better, had sought comfort and strength from Finn and Rose and was thinking about leaving him . . .

Two days ago, he had asked her to run away with him, to leave Finn and Rose and all of it behind. She said no. He got angry and lashed out at her before disappearing. She thought it was over.

She returned to their apartment after running errands this morning only to find a notice on her door to pay rent in five days otherwise they’d be evicted. She had given her half of the rent money to her ex-boyfriend days ago, even before that last fight, with plenty of time before rent was due. She had pulled the notice off the door, confused, and went inside.

The paper immediately fell from her hands.

All of the furniture was gone. Not just his, but her furniture too, the stuff she had skimped and saved for. Her favorite reading chair, soft and comfortable and perfect for her to curl up in, was gone. She dashed into the bedroom only to discover it empty too, her clothing and a handful of knick-knacks the only things remaining.

It was all gone.

Then she had a horrifying thought and pulled out her phone. With a few taps, she discovered her bank account was almost empty, too.

Even if her name had been on the lease instead of just his, she would never be able to cover the rent.

She had dashed out the door, headed to meet Unkar and desperately beg him for a loan, to promise him an even better portion of any fees she earned if she could just get something right now, but he hadn’t been in the office. Nor had he returned any of the messages she had left him, desperately hoping for a miracle.

Her lack of money and her soon to be homelessness had driven her to that park bench, and now she’s here, and she can’t believe she let all that slip out.

For a moment, she’s worried and almost ashamed that she said all of that. Still, she refuses to be broken, so she lifts her head back up and juts her chin out, almost daring Poe to pity her.

There’s still that same warmth in his eyes, even as its tempered with concern, but there’s no pity.

“You’ve got a place to stay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Friends of mine will let me use their couch,” she says. She knows Finn and Rose will let her stay with them for a while, stash some of her things there, but otherwise she has no idea what to do.

“And you work for Plutt, right?”

She winces, knows that the Plutt name is well-known in the entertainment industry, and not for any good reasons. “I know, it’s horrible, but it pays the bills. Sometimes,” she says, trailing off.

Poe sighs. “There’s not many worse than him. He hired a guy to tail me, was trying to take advantage of some of my friends and family to get to me. There are some who enjoy the job, the thrill of the chase, getting the scoop no matter the cost, and this guy was one of them. Luckily, we were able to stop him pretty quickly. But I’ve heard stories, second-and-third hand mostly, about him and his shop and there’s a whole different side to his operation. Sounds like others just need the job, and he’s willing to take advantage of it.”

She huffs out a dejected laugh. “I needed a loan when I first moved out here, got suckered into working with him, and it feels like I’ve been trapped ever since. He’s a horrible boss, but I needed the money.” She turns to him, suddenly concerned. “And I just want you to know that I’m not going to use this as some sort of way to make money or anything. I won’t sell the story. You’ve been incredibly kind to me, and I wouldn’t do that.”

Poe glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “If I thought you would do that, I wouldn’t have let you in this car. I told you I recognized you. I’ve seen a bit of your work, you know.”

She nods, too stunned to reply.

Their conversation trails off for a moment, but Poe breaks the silence, voice contemplative. “I could give you some money, if you want.”

She shakes her head quickly. “Absolutely not.”

“What about a loan?” he asks. “You could pay me back.”

She thinks maybe a loan would be okay, but then lets out a sigh. “Unkar doesn’t pay that well. I don’t know if I would ever be able to pay you back. So, thank you, but no.”

They arrive outside of her apartment building in a sketchier part of town where his car sticks out like a sore thumb. But still, he makes no move to urge her out of his car in an attempt to get away from the area quicker.

“What if there was work that would pay you something decent?”

That certainly piques her interest, and she turns to him, an eyebrow raised.

Poe turns to her, a devilish look in his eyes. “I have an idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, she finds herself once more sitting on a bench in a nice neighborhood, but at least this time it’s not raining. She glances down at her watch before fiddling with the settings on her camera yet again.

It’s late afternoon heading into evening, the setting sun illuminating everything in a warm golden light, and she’s waiting for Poe to walk down the sidewalk and dart in and out of a local café before disappearing into a taxi.

At least that’s the plan. She’s a little nervous, a thousand worries crossing her mind, wondering what she would do if he doesn’t show up, if he backs out at the last minute.

She doesn’t have to worry long, however. A few minutes later and Poe turns the corner, dressed casually in jeans and a leather jacket, a pair of dark sunglasses adorning his face. To everyone glancing at the picture later, the sunglasses might seem like an attempt to go incognito, but it’s hardly enough to truly disguise _the Poe Dameron_.

But that was the idea after all. It might seem like this famous man was trying to be as elusive as ever, but they know better.

Rey quickly raises the camera to her eye and starts snapping pictures. Poe walks normally for the first few moments, as if he hadn’t noticed her yet. Finally, a scowl descends upon his face as he directs his focus to the camera and his hand comes up to cover his face.

And then he turns and disappears into the café.

Rey figures she has several good photographs in there. The camera loves him. Even if they hadn’t planned it, even if Poe hadn’t expected to be caught on camera today, it would be incredibly difficult to get a bad picture of the attractive, curly-haired movie star, she thinks.

A moment later she shakes her head, chastising herself for those thoughts. He’s helping her out while she’s in a bad way. He’s warm and kind, and there is absolutely no reason to help her except out of the goodness of his heart. She shouldn’t be _ogling _him now.

She’s saved from her thoughts when the café door opens and closes once more. She grabs a few more pictures, this time with Poe walking out with a cup of coffee in hand, and hailing a taxi before getting in and driving away.

She quickly scrolls through the pictures and smiles, before shutting down her camera and placing it back in her bag. A moment later, her phone buzzes with a text.

_Poe: Any good pictures?_

_Rey: Only all of them_

_Poe: Good! Hopefully Unkar will accept them!_

_Rey: I don’t doubt it. I’m gonna text him right now. He’ll prob start salivating when he hears I got photos of you_

_Poe: Good luck! Let me know what he says. I’m headed out of town in a few hours, but I’ll be back in a couple of days. I’ll let you know before our next “meeting” hahaha_

_Rey: I will! And thank you again!!! _

_Poe: No problem! See you soon!_

Rey smiles at his reply and the idea that she’ll get to see him again. It’s still so strange to her that she even has his number in her phone now, that he’s willingly reached out to her even when she had doubts about bothering him for something that must seem so trivial to him, especially with everything else on his agenda.

She quickly shoots a text to Unkar, hating the fact she has to do so, but she’s under contract with him. Every time she gets a shot of someone, she has to let him have the first bite at it. Only if he passes on it is she allowed to take it elsewhere, which almost never happens. She’s too good of a photographer for him to pass on.

If he options the photograph from her, he can go on to sell it, and a portion of the sale goes to her. Her portion is a small fraction of the overall price, and usually that means she’s only left with scraps.

A picture of Poe Dameron would sell for a pretty penny, however. Her portion might technically still be a small percentage of the overall sale, but even a small percentage of this sale would be more a lot more money than she’s ever earned from a single job before.

He bites. Of course he does. She knew he would. She sends him the photos, and a few hours later he’s made the sale. And of course she also knew he would grumble at her fee, but as long as the money makes it to her bank account, she just lets it wash right over her.

She gets the email confirming what her portion of the sale would be, and for the first time in the last week, she thinks she just might make it through to the other side.

***

Finn and Rose insist that Rey stay with them a little while longer, at least long enough for her to build a little safety net in her bank account before she finds her own place. She hates to think that she’s putting them out any, but they just wave aside her protests, even as they seem more concerned that they can only offer her a couch.

She’s so grateful for her friends, and she smiles at them and wishes them a good night as they head back to the little bedroom in their one-bedroom apartment. She fluffs up the pillow Rose had given her and settles in amongst the pile of blankets Finn had insisted she take.

She’s getting cozy and contemplating the best position for sleep when her phone buzzes with a text. Her heart jumps a little in her chest, hopeful that the text is from Poe.

She tells herself that it’s silly to get her hopes up, _why would you even do that to yourself_, she thinks, but her heart doesn’t stop its rapid beat. In fact, it only speeds up when she glances down and sees the message is indeed from him.

_Poe: Saw my pic on the gossip sites, guess it sold ;)_

_Rey: It did! Unkar practically flipped when I told him I’d gotten pictures of you_

_Poe: I’m glad! Hope it helped — those pictures were really good_

_Poe: I mean the light and the structure and everything were really good, you’re very talented. Not me lol_

Rey laughs, imagining the sheepish grin he had given her in the car the first time they’d met crossing his face once more. She’d known what he was trying to say, even if those pictures had also looked really good for the simple fact that he had looked really good.

She wants to tell him that, too. She can’t believe that she wants to tell him that.

Instead, she just sighs and moves her fingers over the keys again.

_Rey: Every photographer’s secret trick is the golden hour. Every picture looks good at the time of day. _

_Poe: You wanna do it again?_

With a few more texts they finish setting up their next meeting, and she can’t help but smile as she drifts off to sleep.

***

This time they agree to meet in the early afternoon. As Poe strolls down a side street, he pauses to take a long look in the window of a local art gallery that also operates as a non-profit dedicated to helping traumatized kids through art therapy.

It was his idea. She thought it was brilliant. If these photos have the side effect of bringing attention to a group doing good work, well, this plan just keeps getting better and better.

This time she gets a scowl and a rueful laugh from Poe when he “notices” her, and she admires the effortless, natural change in expressions, especially since she knew it was all an act. He turns back to face the window though, and she takes a few steps closer to where she she’s able to catch his reflection in the glass, pulling her camera to her eye to take the shot, and for a dizzying moment, she almost thinks that he’s looking at her reflection, too.

Except, visible through the viewfinder of her camera, there’s an expansive landscape portrait, its bright and vibrant colors only a few short feet in front of Poe. Of course he wouldn’t be looking at her.

She gets a few more shots of him before he walks off and turns the corner out of sight. She’s packing away her camera when her phone buzzes.

It’s Poe, and she can’t help the smile that springs to her face even as she opens up the text.

_Poe: Got some pictures you can use?_

_Rey: Yep! Looking good, as always!_

She wants to smack herself on the forehead. She really didn’t intend for the text to come across as flirty, but apparently her subconscious had decided to take charge for the moment.

_Poe: Well, that’s because there’s an amazing photographer behind the camera_

The unexpected compliment causes her fingers to falter across the keys and another text from Poe comes through before she can respond.

_Poe: You thirsty? There’s a great coffee shop on this block_

She can’t see any reason not to agree to it, not that she would even want to say no, she thinks sheepishly. So she texts him back, and a moment later, they’re walking into a non-descript little shop where she greedily inhales the rich scent of coffee and fresh baked goods.

Then, to her surprise, the barista behind the counter greets him with a warm “Hello, Poe!”

Poe returns the greeting happily, clearly familiar with the barista. She gets the feeling Poe’s not just a regular customer, but rather a welcome face at the little coffee shop. The barista takes their orders and gets to work before Poe guides her to a little table hidden in an alcove.

When another man walks out from the back room to greet Poe, once again warmly and by name, before retreating behind the counter to talk to the barista, she has the feeling that she’s suddenly starting to understand why Poe proves so elusive.

“Seems like you come here often.”

“They understand my desire for privacy, and they make a mean cappuccino. Plus, Lando is just a great guy, has the best stories, and his employees seem to like him, too, so . . .” and Poe shrugs, “Here I am.”

“They don’t seem like the type to sell you out to the paparazzi, and now you’ve introduced a paparazzi into their midst,” Rey says, raising her eyebrow teasingly. “How scandalous, Mr. Dameron.”

He barks out a laugh. “Well, when you put it that way,” he says, pulling a face that has her giggling in return. He then leans towards her and props his elbows on the table as he asks, “Would you mind if I take a look at the pictures?”

Rey quickly agrees, pulling out her camera and allowing him to scroll through the frames. She wonders if he’s going to ask her to delete any. More than a few celebrities would be pretty upset to see an awkward or unflattering photo of them make it out into the public.

Instead, after taking a long look at the pictures, Poe just hands the camera back to her, and says, “You’re really talented with that camera. I’ve been in photoshoots where it can take hours to get the right light and framing, even indoors when you have all the tools at your disposal. But here . . . here, you make it look effortless.”

Her eyes widen in surprise at yet another unexpected compliment

“Did you go to school for photography or are you self-taught?” he asks.

“I taught myself, mostly,” she says. “My foster father enjoyed it, but what he did was mostly snap and shoot. When I moved in with him, he got me a library card, and between that and YouTube videos, that’s how I learned.” She smiles, thinking fondly back on that far too brief period of her life, the respite amongst the storm. “And he got me my first real camera. Ever since, it’s just been practice and trial and error. What about you? How did you get started acting?”

He grins a little, a mixture of amusement and fondness, and she mentally chastises herself. She might not know the story, but he must have been asked it a million times.

“My mother was an actress, but she had started branching out into directing when I was born, and we would constantly play around. My first real play was some skit that my mom helped me put on. I can’t even remember what it was, but we got some of the neighborhood kids involved. We had put on in the backyard with props and everything, sold tickets and popcorn for a dollar, all the parents came out to see their kids. I was bit by the acting bug then, and I just never stopped,” he said, and he laughs a little, something almost melancholy in that sound.

She feels something between them then, some strange similarity, a kindredness of spirit, but she can’t quite pinpoint it. Instead she just says, “I’m sorry. I know you must probably be asked that all the time.”

“Sure,” he says, casting his eyes down to the table briefly before glancing back up at her with a look she can’t quite decipher. “But I’ve never told anyone that story.” She raises an eyebrow in confusion, and he says, “My mother died when I was seven. I don’t like to talk about that in interviews. Instead I just tell them it started when I was in elementary school with a play. It’s still true, but the whole world doesn’t need to know the details.”

Before she can say anything, Lando comes over and gives them fresh cups of coffee. After prompting from Poe, she orders a blueberry muffin, while he requests one with chocolate chips. When Lando goes to grab their food, she watches as he heaps an impressive amount of sugar into his coffee.

“Sweet tooth?” she asks, grinning.

“Just a little,” he replies, wrinkling his nose endearingly before he takes a sip and lets out a pleased sigh.

By the time Lando brings their food, they’ve already returned to their conversation. They exchange more of their backstory, a topic of conversation that she rarely indulges in considering her history, but there’s something just so easy about talking to him. He tells her more of his mother’s start in Hollywood and her unwavering search of the untold stories desperately in need of telling, to his first audition for a film, where he had acted out a scene from Hamlet, holding a Pringles can in a poor imitation of Yorick’s skull while his friend recorded him on his phone, to submit to a casting director on the other side of the country. He still seems vaguely embarrassed of the story despite the success of the video, and she thinks the slightly self-conscious grin he gives her, a faint red staining the tops of his cheeks, might just be the most adorable thing she’s ever seen.

Somewhere between divulging how she had first started working for Unkar (“No money and no credentials to my name. No one even _looked_ at my portfolio.”) and describing how this one time she accidentally ended up knee deep in a ditch full of mud because it was the best spot to take the absolutely perfect shot, she’s hit with the sudden realization that Poe’s attention is fully on her, his elbow propped up on the table, chin in hand, his eyes focused entirely on her own as she tells her story.

It’s a bit overwhelming, and she takes a gulp of her coffee, which she suddenly realizes is cold.

A quick glance at her phone shows that they’ve passed over two hours in the little coffee shop.

Poe seems as stunned as she is at the time, and while she hastily gathers her things together in order to hurry across town for another assignment, he stands and lingers, awkwardly shuffling his feet, as he waits for her.

Something flashes across his face, something almost like anxiety, but this was Poe Dameron, confident and self-assured, and she thinks she must have misjudged it, and then he asks, “Would you want to do this again?”

Her heart does something funny, feels like it leaps in her chest and for a moment she thinks —

But no.

She realizes that maybe it was in fact anxiety that she saw, that maybe he was worried that she would ask him to keep doing these sessions. If there’s one thing she’s learned about him in these last several days, it is that he’s kind, almost to a fault. She must have been taking up a lot of his time by arranging for these “candid” paparazzi sessions, and he must be wondering when he would get his free time back.

She feels silly, but she doesn’t want to be free of him, not yet. Not when he’s made her laugh more in one afternoon than it feels like she’s laughed in the last year, not when his sweet smiles make her stomach flutter and his natural warmth seems to encapsulate her within it, too.

“Unkar will probably be able to make a good sale for these, and I could probably afford a deposit on an apartment. I might even be able to buy out my contract with him after one more. If you wouldn’t mind doing this again, I couldn’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it,” she manages to stammer out, hating herself a little for the slight tinge of desperation in her voice, hating herself that it’s not just because of the job but also because it’s _him_. She should know better than to let her personal feelings get in the way.

She thinks she sees a flinch cross his face, though she can’t imagine why, but then he agrees. She barely manages to stutter out a thank you, too embarrassed by her previous spiel to stay any longer, before she rushes out the door, heat rising to her cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Rey struggles with some negative perceptions about herself in her internal monologue.

Rey struggles up the stairs to Finn’s and Rose’s third floor apartment, barely managing to dig the keys out of her pocket and unlock the door without dropping anything. She sets her grocery bags on the counter, pulling out ingredients for a quick (and very cheap, she thinks with a wince) spaghetti dinner she planned as a thank you to her two friends.

Hopefully the brownies will help conceal just how little she could afford.

Luckily, she had beaten the two home by a good forty-five minutes, so by the time Rose had wandered in from her job as a mechanic and showered and Finn arrived after his day as a personal-trainer-slash-community-college student, she had finished setting everything out on the table.

“You didn’t have to do this!” Finn exclaims, even as he heaps a large serving of noodles onto his plate. He grins at Rey’s amused expression. “What? I’m a growing boy and I need the carbs.”

Rose shoves him lightly on the shoulder, laughing as he stares at her in mock horror, gently cradling his plate close to his chest. “He’s right though. You really didn’t have to do this, Rey. You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. We got the extra couch, and we love having you here. But we do appreciate this anyway,” she says as she goes to grab a few brownies. Rose’s love of chocolate – brownies, in particular – was well known, and Rey just grins as Rose bites into one before she even had a forkful of her dinner.

For her part, Rey started by tearing off heaping chunks of the garlic bread, practically inhaling it as they began eating. The three of them rarely had down time, often running themselves ragged while barely having time to scarf down some hastily pulled together lunch. Today was no different, so they ate dinner mostly in silence as they worked to fill their stomachs.

Every once in a while someone would look up at the exact right moment where noodles were being slurped up with particular gusto and meet someone else’s eyes and the companionable silence would be broken by sudden laughter.

Once the last crumb of brownies had been eaten (although Rey was sure Rose had tucked some away for later), they make their way to the living room. Rey tossed most of the pillows and blankets she had been using to sleep to the floor, and she and Rose sat on the couch while Finn grabbed a video game controller and sprawled out on the floor.

Rose scrolls through her laptop while Rey pulls out her book, quickly getting pulled back into the details of an epic space battle. A lone fighter was setting up the circumstances to take down a dreadnought to save the fleet, when —

“Huh,” Rose says, the word long and drawn out, and Rey knows that sound, can practically hear the gears whirring in Rose’s head while she mulls something over.

Rey glances up, sees Rose glance quickly at Rey out of the corner of her eye before returning to her laptop.

A moment later, Rose’s eyes dart towards her again.

_That’s strange,_ she thinks. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, I’m just fine, but how are _you_,” Rose says, a teasing leer springing to her face as she looks towards Rey.

Rey has no idea what’s going on. “I’m fine,” she replies, slowly.

Rose’s leer only grows more pronounced. “I would think you’re doing better than fine.”

Rey _really_ has no idea what’s happening, and at this point, Finn has paused his game and rolled over, leaning back onto his elbows as he looks toward the two girls.

“Whatcha looking at?” Finn asks.

Rose looks like the cat who ate the canary as she says, “Oh, just my favorite gossip site.”

Rose’s love of pop culture and celebrity gossip is almost as well-known as her love of brownies. Rey is immediately on alert, while Finn just asks, “Anything good?”

“Just some new pictures of the ever-elusive _Poe Dameron_,” Rose replies with a giggle.

“Are they Rey’s?” Finn asks, pulling himself up so that he can grab Rose’s laptop and look through the pictures himself. Rose just nods, a knowing smile on her face when she meets Rey’s eyes.

While Rey figured that Unkar would have sold the photos and they would be posted by now (and she should check her email and bank account just to make sure her payment’s gone through, she thinks), she’s still really confused by Rose’s reaction.

Apparently, so is Finn. “So, what was that reaction for? They’re good. We knew they’d be good. They’re Rey’s pictures.”

“Look at the fifth picture down.”

Finn scrolls down the page once more and Rey watches as he studies it for a long moment. “Hmm,” he says. A moment later, Finn hums once more, this time deeper, the sound knowing, as a slow grin spreads across his face. He hands the laptop back to Rose and turns that grin towards Rey.

Rey is both confused and more than a little worried that there might be something wrong with the picture, so she moves to take a look.

Rose moves the laptop to her side, just out of Rey’s grasp.

“You like him, don’t you,” Rose says. It’s less of a question and more a statement of fact.

It’s not like she can outright deny it, even if she can’t quite figure out how they got from looking at the pictures to this. These are her friends, her best friends. They know her better than anyone, and they’ve always been able to see right through her.

It doesn’t mean she can’t pretend not to understand what they mean though.

“Of course I do. He’s helping me out when he doesn’t have to, not to mention he’s nice and extremely talented.”

Rose sees right through her. “Oh, _of course_. But you know that’s not what I meant.”

Rey just rolls her eyes, slumping further into the couch. She can’t even try to hide it from them. “Wouldn’t matter even if I did. As I told you earlier, he was just helping the poor crying girl. He probably can’t wait to be done — just waiting till I earn enough money to get out from under Unkar’s thumb.”

She tried not to sound petulant. She’s pretty sure she failed. She wonders if she should just tell Rose to drop it, that she’s got enough on her mind just trying to survive, to figure out how to get back on her feet again, to get an apartment and a new job somewhere far, far away from Unkar.

“Are you sure about that,” Rose teases while Finn grins and waggles his eyebrows at Rey.

“Rose, don’t tease,” she says, and something in her voice causes Rose’s face to gentle, the teasing look morphing into something softer.

“Just look,” Rose says, handing the laptop to Rey.

The fifth picture is still centered on the screen from where Finn and Rose had been looking at it. Rey remembers the picture, remembers when she was choosing which pictures to submit to Unkar. She remembers staring at this one a little longer than the rest, selfishly wanting to horde this one back from the others she had submitted, wanting to keep it for herself.

She’s not sure why, exactly. He’s in front of the art gallery, the sun catching in his hair as he glances over his shoulder to look in her direction. She always gets a few like that once the celeb catches on to her presence, and she had triple-checked the photo to make sure her reflection wasn’t caught in the window in front of him.

There was no sign of her in the window, so she had submitted it, though she never was able to shake that feeling of wanting to keep it for herself.

“It’s a good picture of him,” she says. “But I don’t know why you’re focusing on this one.”

“Look at it again. Look at it amongst the other pictures, too.”

She starts at the beginning, sees the pictures of Poe strolling down the street approaching the gallery. The images of him are absolutely stunning, all curly hair and stubbled jaw, the leather jacket and the tight jeans doing him all the right favors, and her breath picks up, and she can only hope her friends don’t notice. She scrolls through the images once more, sees the photos where he “notices” her taking pictures of him and scowls, sees him examining the art visible from outside the windows. She focuses on the fifth one again, trying to figure out what Rose and Finn are seeing.

Like before, he’s standing there in the sun, highlights reflecting in his hair as he glances over his shoulder towards her. His face is relaxed now, the scowl from the other picture taken just moments prior having melted right off his face. There’s something soft there too, something in the warmth of his eyes and the way they crinkle at the corners, the way his mouth has tilted up just slightly at the edges.

“You have to see it,” Rose pleads, moving closer until she’s practically curled around Rey’s shoulder as they both look at the picture.

“It’s really obvious,” Finn chimes in.

“He _likes_ you, too,” Rose says, excitedly, as Finn nods affirmatively along with Rose’s statement.

At that, Rey closes the laptop, and Finn and Rose become silent. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see it,” she says, even as she desperately tries to ignore the voice in her head whispering, _maybe, maybe_. She’s seen too much to be too hopeful. There’s no reason he should like her. He has his pick of women, of women who are healthy and whole, who aren’t absolutely terrible at relationships, who aren’t living paycheck to paycheck while sleeping on their friend’s couch. She’s so broke she can’t even afford to attempt to get a better job at the moment. What would he need from her, a _scavenger_, another voice hisses, whose greatest asset is coming across celebrities at just the right moment to capture photos her boss would like.

“I’m sorry,” Rose says. “But I think you’re wrong. You’re wonderful, and I think he sees that, too.”

Rey gets up and grabs her pajamas. “I’m tired,” she says, her voice weary as she makes her way to the bathroom to change.

She hears a gentle tap on the door, hears a whispered “I’m sorry” from Rose, a sigh, and then, “Goodnight.”

She doesn’t respond. She can’t make her throat work, too full of unnamed emotions. When she gets back out, the television is off and Rose and Finn are in their bedroom.

She arranges the pillows and blankets on the couch and settles in.

It only now occurs to her that when Rose had said, “He likes you, too,” she didn’t even think about contesting their assumption that she liked him.

She wonders when she had finally allowed herself to admit that.

She thinks that can only mean trouble.

But still, as she drifts off to sleep, the image of him standing in the window, the sunlight reflected in his hair as he gazes at her over his shoulder, lingers just behind her eyelids.

***

_Poe: Just how much more do you need to buy out the remainder of your contract?_

Rey considers the text and did some mental math before typing in her response. Poe had reached out to her via text ten minutes ago to let her know he was back in town, and since that first message came through, they’d been keeping up a steady stream of conversation. Rey stretched out a little further on the park bench she’d been relaxing on and hit send.

_Rey: Probably another 5k. Finn ran the numbers by one of his college buddies to try to figure out what the contract says. _

_Poe: How are Finn and Rose doing by the way? Hanging out with them today? Tell them I said hello!_

She had told Poe about them that first time they shared coffee at Lando’s shop, and ever since, he’ll ask her to pass on a hello or something cool he learned, something that he thinks that they’d like to know about. And to his credit, Rose visited the aerospace exhibition that came through town on his suggestion and came back singing it – and his – praises.

Rey laughs at Poe’s eagerness, so clearly shining through in the text. The three of them haven’t even met, but she thinks they would hit it off immediately.

Especially Finn and Poe, she thinks. Those two would be troublemakers.

_Rey: They’re doing just fine — bet they’re ready to get me off their couch! I’ll let them know you said hi._

_Rey: And no, Finn’s got clients today and Rose is at work. I’m just killing time taking photos around town, came across a park that’s got some interesting landscapes._

She wonders what he’s doing, whether he’s just killing time too, feet kicked up at his apartment maybe. He’s been on the road so much recently, and she saw the most recent interview he did. She thought he seemed tired. She hopes he’s gotten some rest. Then her phone lights up with a new message from him.

_Poe: Oh, cool! What park is it? I know one that’s got the most amazing trail around this small pond, it’s fantastic._

She doesn’t actually know the name of it. She’s been in this part of town a few times, but never actually entered the park until now. She looks up a map on her phone and texts him its name.

_Poe: No way! I’m literally across the street grabbing coffee. Want company?_

_Rey: Sure : )_

Rey winces at her emoticon usage, but he responds immediately.

_Poe: Great! Want coffee or anything?_

Rey texts him a coffee request and then a rough description of her location along with a picture. Ten minutes later he arrives, iced coffees in each hand and a bright smile on his face.

“What are the chances of this,” Poe says, grinning, as he hands over her order. “For some reason, I just got the urge to grab some coffee and come walk the trail for a bit, and now you’re here.”

“It must be fate,” she says, hoping it comes off as nonchalant, maybe a bit teasing but still cool. She’s pretty sure she fails, but he just gives her another bright smile, and her insecurity fades away. It’s strange how much that seems to be happening to her now. How she might feel awkward or silly or like a fool, but around him, it never really bothers her. All the rough edges suddenly feel smoothed out.

“Must be,” he says, smiling at her before taking a sip from his cup. “Wanna go for a walk?” he asks, gesturing towards the trail.

She agrees and packs up her camera, and they set off, slowly ambling down the wooded path. She takes a drink of her coffee, before asking, “But what are you doing out and about? I thought you’d just got back. Shouldn’t you be binging Netflix or something all day?”

He laughs, and the sound is sweet. “I’ve never been good at sitting still. I much prefer to wander around and keep moving. There’s always something new to see.”

She explains that she’s the same way, more content to be out exploring and discovering new things than being stuck inside. “Even my work keeps me outside mostly. About the only time I’m inside is when it’s storming out. Oh! Or when me and Finn and Rose do our weekly movie night.”

“Weekly movie night? What do you three usually watch?”

“It depends on who’s doing the choosing, really. Rose likes comedy, even some rom-coms. Finn’s the action guy — though, to be fair, he probably likes the rom-coms that Rose chooses even more than she does. I like fantasy. I’ve picked the Lord of the Rings films more than a few times. Oh! And westerns! I think that’s the one genre we all really agree on.”

“Westerns, huh? I’d never have guessed that.”

“Oh, but it’s the best! You got the wild frontier, people chasing and pursuing each other for one reason or another, bounty hunters and outlaw gangs, money, revenge — and that’s just the start!”

Now that she’s talking about some of her favorite things, she knows her voice has quickened and her hands are gesturing wildly, but she’s too excited to stop. He doesn’t seem to judge her badly for it though, not with the way he’s smiling broadly at her enthusiasm.

“I know it’s the best. I must have watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid a million times growing up,” and he laughs when she hits his bicep with her hand as she excitedly exclaims, “No way, me too!” before he continues, “but I think space westerns are my favorite subgenre.”

“What’s your favorite?”

He cocks his head to the side in thought. “I think it’s gotta be Serenity.”

She clutches a hand to her chest, shaking her head back and forth as if in sorrow, and says, “I’m a leaf on the wind—”

“—watch how I soar,” he finishes.

She sighs. “I love that movie — that whole series, too — so much. Oh! My movie night is coming up, I think I’ve gotta choose that.”

“You can’t go wrong with it,” he says.

“Do you wanna come over and watch it with us? We always get way too much food, and you can meet Finn and Rose,” and the words have come out before she had really thought them through, and suddenly her heart drops into the pit of her stomach and, _oh__ god, Rey, why would you ask him that. He’s only going to say no, probably will pity the poor little scavenger thinking she can invite him, a literal movie star, to a small apartment for a movie, and — _

“I’d love to,” he says, smiling brightly once more.

She trips over her feet a little bit, shocked that he’d actually said yes. He reaches a hand out to grasp her elbow to help her regain her balance, all the while he’s still giving her that smile.

She thinks she’s gotten in over her head.

She can’t resist smiling back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go ahead and bump up the rating of this fic to be on the safe side, since there will be some explicit sexual scenes throughout, even if the majority of the fic won't be explicit.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: female masturbation. If you want to avoid the explicit scene, skip the section starting from "But the want is too overwhelming" and then pick up with the last few lines of the chapter, starting with "She wonders if she should feel something else, something more like shame or guilt or even awkwardness."

“So, Poe’s going to be joining us for movie night,” Rey starts off, and Finn turns around so fast, his socked feet slipping along the smooth surface of the kitchen floor, that she’s briefly terrified that the stack of clean dishes he’s holding is going to go flying out of his hands and shatter all over the floor.

Still, she’s not as terrified by that as Rose’s immediate, well . . . cackle.

If she didn’t know better, she’d think Rose was already planning their wedding.

No. She knows Rose better than that. Rose may be a romantic, but she also has one of the filthiest minds of anyone Rey knew. Sometimes Rey jokes that it’s why they get along so well.

So that’s why she knows that Rose is probably thinking of dragging Rey to the store to buy lingerie and condoms and _then _planning their wedding.

_Buying lingerie and condoms for him, now that’s a thought_. Rey shakes her head to clear it so she can focus on her friends once more.

Or, at least, try to. That particular turn her mind had taken is trying its damnedest to continue distracting her.

Finn’s mouth is still hanging agape, and he finally stutters out, “Poe? Poe Dameron?”

Rose giggles. “Yeah. How many other Poe’s do you think Rey knows?”

Finn glances back at Rey and she nods in confirmation.

“So much to do. Gotta clean, gotta prep,” and he wanders off, Rose laughing at his retreating figure.

Rose turns back to Rey with a devilish grin. “I can’t believe you asked Poe out on a date.”

_Wait, what?_ She blinks rapidly as her brain screeches to a halt. “Wait, what?” She suddenly finds herself a bit speechless. Apparently all she can do is repeat those two words.

“You asked him on a date. Gotta admit, a little weird that you went with a double date here for your opening bid, but . . .” and she trails off with a shrug and a smug grin.

“That’s not — that’s not what this is,” she protests. Not that it hadn’t crossed her mind when those words left her mouth at the park that day, or in the days since, but . . . they’re friends, at least she can admit that to herself now, and friends invite friends over for movies, right? It’s not like Poe gave any indication that he considered this a date. Her mind races, and her words come just as quickly. “It’s not a date. When you two started inviting me to your movie night, it’s not like you were asking me to join you in some polyamorous triad, it was just one friend, or two friends really, inviting another friend over for a movie night, so why would he even think this was a date? He wouldn’t. It doesn’t make sense.”

She finishes her speech, breathing a bit heavily, when Finn wanders back in, a broom in one hand and a bucket filled with cleaning supplies in the other. He gives her an assessing once over, mouth open in a little O of surprise. “What did I miss?”

“Rey’s getting a little flustered about her movie date with Poe,” Rose replies even as she gives Rey an exaggerated wink.

Finn hums thoughtfully. “Well, it’s a bit unusual that she asked him on a double date to our apartment for their first date,” he says with a small shrug, “but you do you, peanut. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Finn flashes her what should be a comforting smile (and honestly, there’s not much in the universe that’s more comforting than that) but this time it just serves to make her huff in frustration.

She does manage to hold back the stomp of her foot.

Barely.

“It’s not a date.”

She doesn’t want to be let down when it becomes clear that he doesn’t consider it a date. Why would he anyway?

It’s just movie night.

With friends.

She spins on her foot, hightailing it for the kitchen.

Rose’s amused voice follows her out of the living room. “Oh, this should be interesting.”

***

Two nights later, chicken wings from the shop down the street sit on their table, accompanied by three kinds of chips and dip each, not to mention the queso being prepped in the kitchen. There’s a tray of vegetables, too, but it’s mostly for decoration at this point. They eat the junk for movie night and leave the veggies for lunches the following week. There’s also a substantial amount of cookies and her own personal bag of gummy bears.

She’s pretty sure she’s addicted to gummy bears at this point. Really all kinds of gummy candy.

She sits on the couch beside Rose, watching as Finn runs back and forth anxiously, muttering to himself, “the beer and soda is cold, can’t forget the plates. Napkins! Gotta grab the napkins!”

Finally, Rose practically tackles him to the couch, peppering his face in kisses in an attempt to distract him.

Rey is still laughing at their antics when there’s a knock at the door. She hears a muffled thump from behind her as she goes to answer it, and then she’s face to face with Poe, his hair just a touch damp where it curls around his ears, in tight jeans and his ubiquitous leather jacket.

It’s really unfair how he can make such casual clothing look so attractive.

“I wasn’t sure what I should bring, so I brought wine,” he says, an almost — _it can’t be shy, can it?_ — smile on his face as he holds out the bottle.

She startles when she hears Finn’s voice close by. “Oh! That’s so nice of you! You shouldn’t have.”

Rey turns, surprised to see him standing right behind her, even more surprised to see Rose dusting the back of her jeans off and picking pillows up from the floor and placing them back on the couch. _What did I miss?_

“This is the least I can do,” Poe begins. “I really appreciate the invite. Rey tells me your movie night is quite the tradition.”

“Absolutely, man. Come on in, come on in,” Finn says, ushering Poe into the apartment.

Poe grins at Rey as he falls into step beside Finn, the two already hitting it off with each other. Rey shakes her head, amused. She figured if they’d ever met they’d immediately be thick as thieves, and it looks like she had been right. She heads into the kitchen for a corkscrew and some glasses as she hears Finn introduce Poe to Rose.

They’re already talking cheerfully as she returns from the kitchen, four glasses and an open bottle of wine in her arms.

Poe sits next to her on the couch, his leather jacket now hanging from a coat rack in the corner of the room, and his forearms bared from where he’s rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt. Luckily she’s seen this movie probably dozens of times as she’s more than a little distracted. The couch is small and with Finn on his other side, Poe’s thigh is pressed to hers and she can feel the heat of his body mingling with her own. Every once in a while he’ll lean forward and she can’t resist looking at him from the corner of her eye, sees the way his muscles flex in his arms as he reaches for snacks, feels him brush against her as he settles back into place on the couch.

She’s never hated this couch more.

She’s never loved it so much, either.

She feels like she’s on fire when he rests his arms along the back of the couch, the one behind her neck close enough that it teases the fine wisps of hair there. She just barely manages to suppress a shiver and takes a hasty sip of wine in an attempt to cool herself down.

She’s a grown woman. She shouldn’t be getting this much of a charge just sitting next to this man, she thinks, and certainly not while she’s in the middle of a movie night with her friends.

She’s so lost in her thoughts that it’s a surprise when she hears sniffling nearby and glances over to see Finn wiping away a few tears. A quick look around shows he’s not the only one, and she turns back to the television to see the credits rolling.

She always cries during this movie, but today she’s the only one with dry eyes. _Guess that’s what happens when you don’t pay attention_. She raises her eyes towards the ceiling. _Sorry, Wash._

Finn leans forward, begins collecting a few of the dirty plates and nods towards Poe’s empty cup. “Want another? We got more wine in the kitchen.”

Rose raises her glass towards Finn, exclaiming, “I do!”

Poe rises from the couch. “Let me give you a hand,” he says, and motions towards Rey’s glass. “What about you?”

She nods, and the two men head into the kitchen, returning shortly after with the bottle. They sit around chatting for a bit, and despite Rey’s best efforts, the conversation leads back to how Poe and Rey met.

“Not that I would ever say that it’s okay to let a stranger into your car. But I’m glad you were there for Rey,” Rose says, and just grins and shrugs when Rey rolls her eyes.

“I was happy to help,” Poe begins. “Besides, it’s not like she was totally a stranger.”

Finn looks confused. “I thought you’d never met before.”

Rey’s more than a little surprised when Poe says, “She found my dog.”

Rey’s dumbfounded. _What does that even mean? _She’s heard about Poe’s dog before. Even after that first time Poe mentioned BB and his love of the water as the reason why he had extra towels in his car, Poe speaks of him often

But she has no idea what he’s talking about. “No, we met when I was — when I was on the bench. On that rainy day.”

He looks almost as confused as Rey feels. “I mean, sure, that’s when we officially met, I guess. But I told you I recognized you.”

“I thought you meant my pictures!”

“I’d seen them before, but that’s not where I recognized you from.”

Rey shakes her head and stares at Poe, absolutely bewildered.

Poe just looks back, equally perplexed. “You found BB at the movie premiere. He got loose and scampered off. He’s — ah — a bit rebellious at times,” he says, glancing at Finn and Rose quickly as if needing to explain BB’s behavior. “Always comes back though, my little buddy. He’s loyal like that. But the red carpet was a new place for him and he got a bit lost, and my assistant Snap told me you found him. I hadn’t even known he had gotten loose until he told me.”

Poe continues, his expression earnest if still a little confused. “I guess I just assumed you knew who he was, at least once you’d gotten BB back to Snap? I just never thought about it really. So that day in the rain when you said you weren’t going to try to take a picture of me, I believed you. You’d miss out on the highest paying photograph of the evening to save a dog? I immediately trusted you.”

_So that was his dog_. She had no idea. She’d never seen a picture of BB, despite how often Poe has spoken of him, and she hadn’t asked questions when she returned the corgi to his handler at the premiere.

She’s stunned, and more than a little overwhelmed by the faith he put in her despite knowing so little about her. It’s a lovely feeling, even if it makes her feel a bit vulnerable. So of course she has to make a joke of it. “And then I took a bunch of photographs of you to sell to the tabloids.”

He sees right through her though. The smile he gives her is so warm and genuine that she almost melts. “It was worth it.”

A long moment passes as they just look at each other, and then he clears his throat and glances down at his watch. “I’ve got an early call time for an interview tomorrow, so I should probably head out.”

Finn and Rose quickly say their goodbyes and head off into the kitchen with their dirty glasses and the empty bottle of wine so fast that it’s obvious to Rey that they’re trying to give them a moment alone.

She walks to the coat rack in the corner of his room and returns, holding out his jacket to him.

His gaze lingers on her face for a long moment before he reaches out and takes the jacket from her hands. He bites his lip, before finally saying, “I had a wonderful time tonight, Rey.”

She wonders if maybe there was something else he wanted to say instead. She just replies, “Me too.”

A moment later, they say goodnight and he steps out into the cool night air. 

***

She stays awake long after Rose and Finn have gone to bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark living room as she lays on the couch. She struggles to get comfortable, flips from one side to the other, but there’s an itch just beneath her skin that won’t let her rest.

She picks up her phone and winces at the time, but she’s much too restless right now to get any sleep.

She bites her lip uncertainly. It only serves to remind her of Poe saying goodnight earlier, his teeth sinking into that plush lip before telling her he had a wonderful time.

He’s kind and generous, and it feels almost dirty the way she’s thinking of the press of his thigh against hers, the way his muscles had flexed under his shirt, all the heat coming off him warming her and tempting her and . . .

She briefly wonders if she should stop, if she should feel embarrassed for even considering doing this on Finn’s and Rose’s couch.

But the _want _is too overwhelming.

The hand resting on her stomach slips down the soft cotton of her shirt and underneath the elastic of her waistband.

There’s no preamble — she’s already worked up enough. She starts to circle her clit, a light, teasing stroke that she imagines Poe would use on her.

He seems like he would be gentle at first, taking care to make sure it’s good for her, using her sighs and moans to direct his movements as his clever fingers take her higher.

She begins to sigh, barely managing to stop it before the noise breaks the silence. The last thing she wants is to wake her friends, have them discover what she’s doing on their couch. The spike of adrenaline at the fear of discovery causes her blood to thrum faster, but still, she takes care to be as silent as possible, the only sound the slip of her fingers through her growing wetness as she works herself.

She can’t help imagining what Poe would be doing if he were here with her. She thinks of his hands, the way they’d feel on her chest, and slips her other hand up her cotton t-shirt. She knows she doesn’t exactly have large breasts, but she thinks they’d fit perfectly in the palm of his hands, can practically feel the warmth of him as he touches her. She thinks he’d use a fingertip to delicately trace around the sensitive skin, maybe thumb a nipple, the contrasting sensations making her back arch in pleasure.

He probably has a talented mouth, too. She licks her lips as she imagines his mouth working her chest over, only the top of his dark curls visible as she writhes beneath him.

Her breath speeds up, becoming harsher in the dark room, even as she tries to keep as quiet as possible. She can’t stop squirming though, her body refusing to be still as pleasure runs hot through her.

His fingers would be strong and sure as they slip inside her. Her fingers are smaller than his, more slender, but she tries to imagine it, the slightest stretch at first as he works her.

He’s roughly the same height as her and she wonders what it’d feel like, all that skin pressed to her as he ramps her pleasure higher, his warm eyes gazing hungrily at her face. She grinds the heel of her hand against her clit, tries to work her fingers deeper, thinks about him leaning down to kiss her, his mouth and tongue hot and wet and teeth nipping at her lip and she _wants _and _wants _and _wants _. . .

She bites her lip hard as she comes, tamping down on the moan that struggles to burst forth. She keeps working herself until the last of her shivers subside, until the last sparks of pleasure fade away and she’s left in the afterglow.

She rests her hand on her stomach, feeling the dull ache in her lip as blood returns to the area, no longer clamped between her teeth.

She wonders if she should feel something else, something more like shame or guilt or even awkwardness, for thinking this way about this man who has been nothing but good and kind to her. He couldn’t feel the same way about her, and she wonders if maybe she was somehow abusing his friendship thinking about him like this.

She wonders if she should feel all that, but she doesn’t. Instead, while the ache between her legs may be sated, her blood still feels on fire for him. She wants him, wants him in any way he’ll let her have him.

If that’s only as a friend, then so be it.

He’s a lovely man, a wonderful friend.

She flips over onto her stomach and groans into her pillow.

She can’t help it. She wants _more_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are definitely earning that E rating again in this chapter. If you want to skip the sex, things start heating up much more quickly once you get to "There’s no question she’s going to follow him down. Now that she’s this close to him, she wants more." You can pick back up with the last scene, which starts with "Sometime in the middle of the night, she awakens."
> 
> Also, I added an epilogue, so I bumped up the number of chapters in this story to include it.

_Hey, so I may have mentioned you to a buddy of mine, and we were talking for a bit, and he would like to meet you._

The text message from Poe comes in on an early Saturday morning. Rose and Finn had left the apartment moments ago to head out of town for the weekend for Rose’s cousin’s wedding. She has the apartment to herself until Sunday evening, and she’s sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone, a bowl of cereal next to her, trying to get an idea of where she might be able to pick up some “work” today (namely which Starbucks would most likely have a celeb visit it) when the alert pops up on her phone.

She feels her heart drop into her stomach before it falls right out onto the floor. In a way it’s nice that he thinks of her enough to play matchmaker, it really seemed like they were becoming friends, _and how amazing is that_, she thinks —

But apparently in some deep, secret part of herself, she had hoped that Poe would think about her in that way, instead of thinking about setting her up with some friend of his.

_Oh?_ She texts back, half-heartedly.

_Yeah! He’s really talented and a great teacher. I’ve known him and his sister my whole life, they were friends with my parents. He was really a big help to my mom when she was starting out._

Okay, now she was extremely confused. Was he trying to set her up with someone his parents age? That . . . was not good.

Poe’s next text arrives before she can figure out how to respond.

_I showed him some of your pictures and he was really impressed. He’s taken on apprentices before, but he’s been alone for awhile now. We’re doing a photoshoot today at his studio, if you’re free and want to stop by._

Her confusion slowly dissipates. Poe was trying to set her up . . . with a teacher? It was actually one of the better ways to establish a foothold in the industry — not only was it a good learning and training experience, but the contacts you made could be invaluable.

She also admits she would love to see Poe doing a photoshoot. She’s seen more than a few of the results published in magazines and on the internet. He certainly has amazing chemistry with the camera.

Her mind unhelpfully conjures a few of those images and she swallows heavily before returning to her phone.

Her fingers fly over the keyboard. _Who’s the photographer?_

_Luke Skywalker_, comes Poe’s reply, almost instantaneously.

Her jaw drops.

A second text follows immediately. _Maybe you’ve heard of him? ;)_

Has she heard of him? He’s legendary, the best in the business. Her foster father had given her a book of his work and she had toted it with her everywhere as a teenager. It remained one of her prized possessions even to this day.

_I’ll be there_, she texts back, trying to slow down her rapid heartbeat. Between the idea of seeing Poe again and meeting Luke Skywalker, she’s absolutely giddy.

_I figured that might entice you_, Poe responds. He texts her the address and time to meet, and she begins dashing about the apartment to get ready.

***

She walks up the secluded path to Luke Skywalker’s private studio, nervously wiping her hands on her jeans. She doesn’t exactly have many options for professional clothing, particularly not for a meeting where her outfit should combine both professionalism and artistry in an attempt to showcase her skills and creative vision.

So, instead she had to settle on her nicest pair of dark wash jeans and a light blue button up, while a bright yellow geometric necklace adds a pop of color. She sent a photo to Rose who replied, “Practical but stylish,” promptly followed by two thumbs up emojis.

Rey could do practical. In her heart of hearts, she was a practical girl. It was nice to get the stylish nod of approval from Rose, though.

She sees a tall dark-haired man waiting for her out front. She had texted Poe when she was nearby, and he offered to send Snap out to meet her. She smiles when she recognizes him as the person she had returned BB to at the movie premiere months ago, even if she hadn’t known his name or who exactly he was at the time.

At least this time she won’t miss out on seeing Poe photographed.

The man must recognize her too, and he smiles widely as he sticks his hand out to her. “I’m Temmin Wexley, but everyone calls me Snap. It’s nice to officially meet you, Rey. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She reaches out to shake his hand. “It’s good to officially meet you too, Snap. Though I promise you, whatever you heard isn’t true,” she says with a laugh, even as she’s wondering about the fact that Poe has seemingly been talking about her. She can’t imagine what he’s said.

“I promise you it’s all good things,” Snap replies, grinning at her.

“Then it’s definitely not true,” she says, earning herself a loud belly laugh from the man.

He leads her inside and down a long hallway filled with many of Skywalker’s prints. It’s a bit intimidating to be in the studio of such a formidable photographer, an artist of the highest caliber. There’s an energy infusing his photos that takes her breath away — it’s a skill she can only begin to imagine one day emulating.

She can see what she assumes has to be the main portion of the studio at the end of the hallway, but Snap directs her into a small, well-lit room. Poe sits in a chair while a woman with a shock of blonde hair crowning her head runs a makeup brush over his face.

She sees the moment Poe notices them in the reflection of the mirror, and he quickly straightens up much to the chagrin of the woman. The woman meets Snap’s eyes and she hears a muffled laugh from the tall man. Clearly the two know each other well.

Poe recovers quickly and she sees him smile as he waves them over. “Rey! I’m so glad you could make it! You’ve already met my pal, Snap, but let me introduce you to Karé Kun.

“So you’re Rey! I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Poe mentioned you’d be joining us today,” Karé says cheerfully.

Rey grins at Poe. She wonders if it’s the heavy makeup for the photoshoot that makes his cheeks appear so red. Or maybe the heat in the room. The bright lights infuse the area with a warmth that reminds Rey of the dry Arizonan desert she was raised in.

Karé’s the one who starts the conversation back up, and Rey is immediately amused, the way she banters with Poe and Snap so easily, sassy but never cruel.

She discovers that Snap and Karé are married, having met on the set of one of Poe’s films when she came on board to assist the studio’s makeup artists.

“He hired me to be his personal makeup artist that day, and I’ve been working with him ever since. Photoshoots, films, television interviews, you name it. Not many of us get that kind of stability in this industry.”

“Poe’s loyal like that,” Snap adds. “If you’ve got the talent and initiative, he’s the best boss you can work for.”

Poe blushes and tries to hush Snap, clearly embarrassed by the compliments. Snap just flips him off with a laugh.

“Takes after his mother, that one,” a new voice says, joining the conversation.

The voice is familiar though, and she whips around and suddenly she’s face to face with the legendary Luke Skywalker.

Poe stands up and walks over to hug him, both of the men laughing as they enjoy the moment.

“It’s been far too long, Luke. I’m glad you’re back.”

“It has been quite the journey,” Luke responds as he lets Poe go, hands resting on Poe’s shoulders to give them a final squeeze. His eyes then meet Rey’s and she feels absolutely floored.

“Luke, this is Rey Kenobi,” Poe says, before Luke seemingly takes over, reaching a hand out to Rey.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rey. I’ve seen some of your work. You’re a natural with that camera,” he says as they shake hands.

He’s got a deep, assessing look in his eyes, and Rey wonders what he might be thinking about her. All she knows is she needs to say something, and she desperately runs through all the different things she had thought to say when she was practicing on the way over.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. My father showed me your ‘Hope’ series portraying refugees and immigrants who were coming to America hoping for a better life and I — it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. It was simply incredible.”

Luke smiles, but his eyes are sad. “That series was a long time ago. It seems many have forgotten what that was all about.”

“Not everyone. And maybe the rest just need to be reminded.”

Luke peers at her for a long moment, his gaze piercing, before nodding and turning to face Poe. The two men smile at each other.

“So, Poe, you ready for your big cover?”

Poe rolls his eyes. “If we can just ignore everything the studio wants—”

“We can’t,” Luke replies smugly. “Besides, where would the fun in that be?” Luke grins wider at Poe’s groan. Luke then looks at her. “You wanna shadow me for the shoot?”

Rey nods, excitedly.

“Just another minute and he’s all yours,” Karé says before reaching over to adjust a few of Poe’s curls.

Suddenly, Rey very much wishes she was Karé right now.

Karé’s eyes catch hers a moment later, and Rey is briefly terrified that the other woman knows what she was thinking. Karé just winks at her and says, “Gotta make him pretty for you two.”

Poe flaps his hands at Karé. “Alright, alright,” he says as Karé erupts into laughter. Poe stands from the chair before turning and holding his arms out to his side, inviting their judgment. “Everything look alright, boss?”

“Everything looks great, Poe,” Luke replies.

Rey very much agrees with his assessment.

The group walks into the studio and Rey is immediately awestruck, the space large and open and filled with more equipment and props than Rey could ever hope to afford.

While Luke talks about what he’s hoping to achieve in the photoshoot, Rey can’t help but watch Poe as he gets ready, loosening up his limbs and rolling his shoulders, hopping around a little on the balls of his feet as if to energize himself. He walks around and takes in his surroundings, giving Rey a little smile when he catches her looking.

She can’t help but smile back, even as Luke talks about the duality of man and the contrasts between Poe the actor, Poe the philanthropist, and Poe the everyday man.

Then Luke turns to her and gives her a wry grin. “We’re gonna hope we can capture that on camera. But really, as long as we can get a little smolder, I think everyone will be happy, am I right?”

Rey nods and hopes she’s not blushing.

“It feels like it’ll be a good day. Maybe we can capture that smolder a little easier than usual this time, hmm?” Karé says before leaning closer to Rey and whispering conspiratorially, “He’s not nearly as smooth and suave as many would think.”

Rey has a hard time believing that, especially right now. Poe’s dressed in a simple black suit with a dark gray button up, but when she looks closer, she can just make out a slight texture to the jacket that will add a certain depth to the photograph.

It may be a rather simple outfit, but he fills it out _very_ nicely. Then Poe goes to work.

She keeps one eye trained on Luke as he adjusts his settings and gives Poe directions, trying to take in the once in a lifetime opportunity in front of her. The other eye stays firmly on Poe as he moves in front of the camera, skill and grace evident in all his movements. She feels like he’s telling a story with his body, and she yearns to hear it.

“What do you think about the lighting?”

She’s so surprised when Luke asks her the question that she scrambles to come up with the correct answer, hoping he doesn’t sense her distraction.

She’s relieved when he replies, “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Could you adjust it for me?”

She scrambles over to fix the lights, hearing Luke tell Poe, “Your instincts were right.”

She turns back just in time to hear the camera’s shutter click and to see Poe with his arms crossed and a warm smile on his face as he looks towards her.

She skitters back to Luke, even more eager now that she’s pleased him at least once. She listens as he talks her through the shots, managing to capture Poe in a variety of expressions. Nothing quite touches the moment when Poe had smiled at her though, and as she reviews the set with Luke during a break, he seems as captivated by that moment as she had been.

After the break ends, Luke dims the lights, turning them low until it almost feels like nighttime. Something in the air just seems to become heavier, more seductive, and the energy deepens. 

Now, Poe has shed the jacket and stands gazing intensely into the camera, eyes heavy lidded and lips parted. In another shot he sits, leaning forward and gazing intensely at something just outside of frame.

A few minutes later, he’s leaning back in an overstuffed chair, two fingers pressed to his lips while the other hand rests at his belt.

Rey feels overheated. It’s almost too much to watch but she can’t take her eyes away.

Then she watches as Poe tries to kick a leg over the arm of the chair and gets tangled up, promptly falling to the floor.

Karé snickers beside her. “There he is.”

For a moment Rey is worried that he might be hurt, but he stands, red cheeks visible even from several feet away. He playfully bows at Snap’s hoots and whistles and Karé’s slow claps.

The smolder doesn’t return quite as quickly this time, but she overhears Snap telling Karé, “You were right. It did come much easier today.”

A moment later and she’s enthralled once more in the photoshoot and their comments slip her mind entirely.

***

“Oh my god,” she breathes out. A second later, “Oh my _fucking _God.” She can’t help but laugh, the sound shaky. She’s still more than a little awestruck.

“Yeah?” Poe grins, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye before he merges them smoothly into traffic.

“I still can’t believe it. I met _the Luke Skywalker._ I mean, what are the chances of that? He’s legendary! He’s like some mythical creature, and I actually got to meet him.”

“You’re making him sound like Bigfoot.”

“Oh hush!” Rey laughs and sees Poe’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at her. “I can’t believe he actually wants me to send him my portfolio!”

“Why not? You’re clearly talented, and he’s already seen the work you’ve done in the field. And it seems like you two got along well. You handled his, uh . . . well, let’s call it his sassier side very well, too. Gave as good as you got.”

She flushes at the praise, turning away to hide her pleased grin in the passenger side window.

Rey had taken a taxi to Luke Skywalker’s studio, much to her bank account’s chagrin. But Poe was kind enough to offer her a ride home, and once more she finds herself in the passenger seat of his car. The drive is relatively short, and it passes much too quick as they banter back and forth.

Granted, the conversation circles back around to her meeting Luke Skywalker. It’s her fault, of course. She’s still riding high.

“Luke Skywalker,” she sighs, almost dreamily, the sound of Poe chuckling as she mentions him again hitting her ears. “I can’t believe it.”

“You better believe it,” Poe says as he pulls into a parking spot at the apartment complex. “You’re going to be giving your portfolio to him”

And then she groans. “I’ve gotta put together a portfolio for him. I’ve never put a portfolio together!”

“You’re going to put together an amazing portfolio for him, and you’re going to give it to him, and he’s going to love it.”

The hope is almost too much to bear and she says, her voice unbearably soft, “You think so?”

She can feel the warmth of Poe’s smile down to her bones. “You’re going to be Luke Skywalker’s apprentice.”

Her eyes flick over his face, but she can’t see any hint of doubt or hesitation in it. He believes those words completely and truly.

She laughs, her joy and elation needing an outlet, and she hears Poe join in, the sound a celebration.

She’s never been so hopeful for the future. She needs to commemorate the occasion. “There’s a bottle of champagne upstairs. I know nothing’s certain, and I still might not get it, but I feel like this moment needs to be marked.” She grins. “I met Luke Skywalker.”

“You met Luke Skywalker,” he grins back.

“So, you wanna come up for a glass? I’m warning you though, it’s the cheap stuff. Just something we keep around for emergencies like this.”

He hesitates for a long moment, glancing between her and the apartment building. She wonders if she overstepped, or maybe he doesn’t want to leave his car in the rundown apartment parking lot.

He glances back at her before smiling softly. “Sure,” he says. “My dad’s got BB, and that . . . that sounds nice.”

It’s only when they’re walking towards the building that she realizes that she had just asked him up to her place. She knows the implications, even if that’s decidedly not what she had in mind when she asked him to join her.

Then again, she wouldn’t mind it at all, she thinks, a thrill running up her spine at the idea that Poe might have been considering just that when she had asked him to come up with her.

The apartment is dark and quiet when they enter, and she flips on the light as she heads for the kitchen and the bottle of champagne.

“Ah, here it is,” she says, reaching her hand into the far depths of the fridge where the bottle has remained since they first brought it home. “An excellent vintage. I believe it was purchased from the gas station around the corner.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard excellent things about this one,” he says, taking the bottle from her and examining it as if they were at a high-end restaurant. “A rare find, absolutely delightful.”

Poe’s exaggerated haughty tone causes her to laugh. “If only you had a top hat and a fancy coat, the picture would be complete.”

“Don’t forget a monocle, too,” he replies playfully as he opens the bottle.

“How could I have ever forgotten.”

He pours the champagne into two glasses she had grabbed from the cabinet, before holding one out to her and lifting his own into the air. “Cheers to bright futures and unlimited possibilities!”

It’s a little corny, but she can’t help but smile and gently clink her glass against his, giggling as the bubbles tickle her nose as she takes a sip.

Soon enough, they’re on the couch, half-drunk glasses of champagne on the coffee table in front of them as they flip through a collection of photographs that Rey’s taken over the years. Some were candid’s that she had taken while working for Unkar, but most of those she’s relegated to a file on her computer that she rarely looks at, content to ignore them and all they symbolize.

Some were more sentimental, photographs she had taken when she was young and just starting out. More than a few were of her foster father, Ben Kenobi, and their little house in the desert of Arizona. After Ben died, she started photographing the landscape around her more and more, to remind herself that beauty could exist even in the harshest of places.

Sometime after, she started taking more portraits, and there amongst the photographs were Finn and Rose.

“They’re out of town for the weekend,” she replies when he asks about them. “Rose’s cousin is getting married. They left this morning.” She feels heat rise to her cheeks, once more very aware that they’re alone and she’s asked him up to her place, and is he wondering why, does he think she asked him up there to get him alone?

Would he even want that?

She can feel the press of his thigh to hers, his body heat next to her, so close together on the couch.

She’s painfully aware of every inch of him.

He’s laughing over a few photographs of Finn and some of his friends in identical Halloween costumes, and her eyes are drawn to him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he laughs, the way his lips curl up in a smile and his eyes squint in mirth.

He’s beautiful, and she doesn’t even realize she’s staring, not until his laughter slows and his eyes meet hers.

She can’t bring herself to look away.

But his warm brown eyes just continue to gaze into hers, the smile fading even as his lips remain parted. His tongue darts out just enough to wet his bottom lip and her eyes follow the movement.

His eyes look — well, she can only describe it as hungry when she meets them again.

Then it’s his turn, his eyes flicking down to her mouth before returning to hers.

She’s not entirely sure who moved first — _maybe it was the both of them?_ — but suddenly they come together. His lips are warm and plush under hers and she clutches his shoulders in an attempt to pull him even closer. He makes a pleased noise and kisses her harder, licking at her lower lip, and she can’t help but to let him in.

She feels his hand, the one that clutched her upper arm when they first started kissing, slide up her neck and into her hair. Her hair has always been her weakness, and to feel his fingers slide along the strands, angling her head to kiss her just a bit deeper, makes her absolutely weak.

She responds by pressing herself even closer to him, her chest pressing into his, and he leans back until he’s lying on the couch.

There’s no question she’s going to follow him down. Now that she’s this close to him, she wants more.

So, she can’t really stop herself from making an almost forlorn noise — _that absolutely wasn’t a whimper, _she tells herself — when he pulls away.

“Wait a minute,” he says, his hand stroking along her hair and neck as his eyes study her face. She wonders what he’s looking for, but then he says, “Are you sure?”

She leans in, kissing him as slow and sensually as she knows how, sucking at his lip a little as she pulls away. She grins, hopes it comes across as more seductive than anything. “That answer your question?”

It seems to work, as Poe groans, clutching her shoulder to pull her in close once more to kiss her, before his lips move down her jawline to that sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

This time when he pulls away, she really does whimper. Poe just looks delighted, and in response to her scowl, he asks, “Are you comfortable?”

“Poe Dameron, I want you. How much more clear do I need to be?”

He looks surprised, and strangely pleased. “I just meant are you sure you’re comfortable on the couch? I mean, we could wait.” His voice grows a little softer as he says, “I could make it nice for you.”

She blushes, both at her initial misunderstanding and at the thought that Poe cares enough that he wants to make what she considers to be a pretty great experience for her already even better. “Seems pretty nice to me.” This time it’s her that leans in to press her mouth to his jaw, and she can’t resist trailing her lips down the tendons of his neck that stand in stark relief as he moans and tilts his head back to give her more space to work.

Somewhere along the way he presses a hand up the back of her shirt, stroking at her spine and she moves until she’s straddling him properly now, legs on either side of his hips. She can feel him already hard beneath the fly of his jeans and she can’t resist rocking her hips a little back and forth. She eagerly swallows down the little moan he makes in the back of his throat as they continue to kiss.

One of his hands rests on her hip, guiding her as she moves. The other plays at the hem of her shirt until finally he drags his mouth away from her to murmur, “Can I take this off?”

The decision is an easy one. She sits back, resting on her heels, her hands tugging her shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere into the middle of the living room.

He follows her up, his fingers unclasping her bra and easing the straps down her arms before he tosses it to the side. She knows she’s on the smaller side, more flat chested than other girls, but she can’t help but be proud of the way his eyes widen as he takes her in.

His hand runs up her stomach until it palms her breast, and it’s her turn for her eyes to widen at the image of his hand cradling her, a thumb stroking back and forth over her nipple. The image and the sensation combine to send shivers through her, and she leans in to kiss him even as her hips press into his, eliciting a groan from the both of them.

She doesn’t have time to be disappointed when he pulls away from her mouth, his lips moving down her neck and chest until he gets to her breast, warm mouth and tongue working her even as his hands keep a tight grip on her hips.

This time when he pulls away, his bottom lip drags over her nipple as he stares up at her from beneath his eyelashes, and the very image of it causes her core to throb with need.

There’s a part of her that wants to take her time, to savor this, to relish it, cause who knows if she’ll ever get the opportunity to do this again.

The other part of her drags her hand down his chest until it gets to his pants and palms over the obvious outline of his erection. She grins sharply at his moan.

“Fuck,” he says, the word long and drawn out somewhere deep in his throat. She can practically see his eyes rolling back into his head as she continues to feel out the shape of him.

“That’s the plan,” she quips, her fingers deftly opening the button and working his zipper down.

He pulls his shirt over his head even as she’s tugging his pants down, the too-tight jeans that he always seems to favor (and which she enjoys quite a bit too) taking a little extra effort to work over his hips. But then she gets his pants and underwear free, and she sends them both to the floor with a satisfied smile. Her eyes rake over his bare body until she meets his heated gaze and she feels something like gravity pull her back to him.

His hands come to trace the sensitive skin along the waistline of her jeans until one rests at the button. “Can I take this off?”

She blinks. He’s already completely naked before her and yet he’s waiting for her response before he makes their positions equal?

“Please,” she gasps out, feeling even more fond of this man, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best of ways for all the things he’s making her feel now and since she met him, and she helps him pull the rest of her clothes off until it’s just the incredible feeling of so much bare skin pressed together as she tumbles back into him, him holding her close as she straddles his lap.

His hand caresses her chest and stomach before sliding further down until it rests between her thighs, a gentle finger stroking through her folds.

She gasps as he continues to hold her to his chest, pressing kisses to her jaw and neck as he circles her clit with slow, smooth strokes, a finger teasing at her opening, working her higher and higher.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, voice low in her ear, as a finger dips inside, followed soon by a second while his thumb continues its sweet and maddening pattern on her clit.

“Yes,” she pants out, then, “Oh god,” as he presses on that lovely place inside of her that has her quickly approaching her crest. She has one of her hands buried in his hair, the other gripping at his shoulders, and with his lips at her jaw and his hand at her cunt, she falls over the precipice with a strangled moan.

He works her through it until her shivers subside, holding her close as she goes boneless in his arms. She gasps into his shoulder as she recovers from the intense orgasm, already feeling her desire for him course through her blood once more.

She presses a fevered kiss to the spot where his neck meets shoulder then another and another up his neck until she can whisper in his ear, “I need you.”

His gasp at her words sends a pulse of pleasure through her.

Then she says, “I want to feel you in me,” and the way he moaned then, the sound absolutely wrecked, has her wondering if she can come from the sound of his voice alone.

She’s got a palm around his cock, feeling the hot, silky skin, already imagining what it would feel like inside of her —

And then Poe says, “Condom.”

She blinks. It takes her a moment for the word to register, his voice low and husky, her lust still running too hot.

He points to his pants, voice harsh with desire as her hand still grips him lightly, his eyes never leaving her face. “In my wallet.”

She nods and lets him go, grinning a little at his broken moan when she does, quickly finding his wallet and the foil-wrapped condom nestled inside.

She’s got it unwrapped and rolled down his cock in seconds when his fingers wrap gently around her wrist. She looks up at him, his eyes soft despite the heat just beneath the surface.

“You still want to do this? We can stop if you want.”

She studies his face, says the only thing she knows for certain right now. “I don’t want to stop.”

His lips part even as his eyes darken. “Neither do I.”

He pulls her closer until her wet heat is nestled right above his cock, and she takes him in hand again as she guides him to her. They both gasp as the head of his cock catches at her entrance, the movement a tease for what’s to come.

She slowly sinks down, trying to memorize the way his eyes stare up at her, the gaze intense and hungry, the way his plush lips part slightly in a gasp as she sinks further down. He feels so good, the stretch sweet as he fills her completely, and she hopes she’s making him feel as good as he’s making her feel.

She takes a moment to appreciate the feeling before beginning to rock her hips, slowly beginning to pick up speed as the pleasure begins to build at the base of her spine.

She moans at the way his lips suck kisses into her collarbone as she moves atop him, his hands gripping her hips to tilt her forward until there’s almost no space left between the two even as they continue to move together.

When he sobs out her name, she feels her cunt clench in pleasure at the sound, and then she’s there, her orgasm rushing through her as his cock presses into her perfectly. She shudders atop him as she rides it out, moving her hips to wring every last drop of pleasure from it, moving her hips because she’s desperate to wring every last drop of pleasure out of him too.

She tugs him by the hair up into a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, as she continues to ride him, and then he’s gasping into her mouth as he comes, his hands keeping her hips pressed firmly into his.

With a last muffled groan, he sinks back into the couch, pulling her with him until she’s resting atop him as they both try to catch their breath.

He runs a soothing hand up and down her back, and even though she’s loathe to move away from him, he eventually has to get up and dispose of the condom and she needs to use the bathroom. She’s drowsy in the best of ways, tired out from the excitement of the photoshoot and the round of amazing, enthusiastic sex she just had, so for once, her brain doesn’t get in the way of the afterglow.

Eventually they pull themselves up, but she quickly returns to curl up on the couch once again, Poe joining her a minute later as he returns from the bathroom. He pulls a blanket over them both.

She’s asleep in moments.

***

Sometime in the middle of the night, she awakens. Part of her is still surprised that Poe is there, his chest rhythmically rising and falling beneath her head.

Now that the sex is over, most guys would be long gone. _At least, the ones she’s been with before_, she thinks with regret.

Poe seems different. But maybe it’s too soon to tell. Maybe it’s just her heart getting in the way of her head.

Her bladder is screaming at her though, so she gently unwinds his arm from where it rests around her shoulders and eases her legs off the couch.

A chill hits her now that she’s not lying in the warmth of Poe’s arms and she grabs a long sleep shirt from her suitcase in the corner before heading to the bathroom. Once she’s finished, she washes her hands and then stares at herself in the mirror for a long moment.

She tries to stamp down the snide voice in the back of her head that’s whispering _just a moment longer, you don’t want to see him while he’s walking out the door, do you?_

She sighs. It’s time to face the music. She opens the door and flips off the light as she walks back to the couch.

She doesn’t want to admit that her heart leaps into her throat, the sensation a little too much like hope, as she sees Poe roll onto his side as he looks at her, blearily eyed but with a sweet smile, and lift up his arm for her to rejoin him.

Even as her heart thumps madly in her chest, she goes to him, sleep quickly reclaiming her as she nestles against him, secure in his embrace.


	6. Chapter 6

Rey stretches, arms rising above her head and legs extending until her feet hit the arm of the couch. Her spine makes a satisfying crack, and she moans sleepily as she nestles her head a bit deeper into the pillow, hoping for just a few more minutes of sleep.

Then that warm, woodsy scent hits her, the one that seems so familiar to her now, and her eyes snap open.

She’s alone on the couch.

She’s alone in the room.

In the small space of the couch, she can’t really tell if it’s her body heat or his that lingers, so she has no idea how long he’s been gone. But her heart drops into her stomach, absolutely shattered that she had let herself get her hopes up once again.

She sighs and sinks further into the couch. She doesn’t have plans, maybe she could spend the rest of the day wallowing? But she’s never been good at sitting still, so she decides she’ll spend a few more minutes in self-pity and then probably head to the gym where Finn’s been kind enough to share his membership with her and box out the worst of it.

And then something hits the floor in the kitchen and she almost falls off the couch.

She stares in shock at the entrance to the other room, her heart beating madly, when she sees a familiar head of curly hair pop around the corner, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Fuck, I woke you, huh? Sorry, I was trying to surprise you and—”

“You’re still here.”

Her shock is apparent and his mouth opens a little in surprise. “Of course I’m still here,” and then something crosses his face and she can see a little wrinkle appear between his brow. “Um, should I . . . do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Her adamant denial almost made her wince, and she fervently hoped it didn’t come off as desperate, although she’s pretty sure she failed.

His face still looks shy and uncertain. “Are you sure? You’ll tell me if I’m intruding?”

There was something strangely vulnerable in his expression and it put her more at ease. It made it so easy for her to say, her voice soft, “I’m glad you’re here.”

His answering smile, warm and sweet, makes her stomach flip. “Do you like pancakes? I found the ingredients for them. I figured you might be hungry.”

“I love pancakes,” she says, grinning as she unfolds herself from the couch.

She doesn’t think she imagines the way his eyes skate down her body as she stands. She knows the shirt she wears bares most of her legs, and she feels a little bolt of pride — and maybe more than a little arousal — as she sees him swallow before his eyes meet hers once again.

“It was the whisk,” he stutters out, and she tilts her head in confusion at the non sequitur. “That was the noise. I dropped it.”

“Ahh,” she says, stepping up to him until little space separates the two. “You didn’t wake me, for the record.”

“Hmm?”

“You seemed worried that the noise woke me. But it didn’t. I was already awake.” She smiles at him then, slow and soft. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he responds, his voice dropping an octave, leaning towards her like a flower towards the sun. She doesn’t hide the fact that her eyes drop to his lips for a long look, and she closes her eyes as he finishes bridging the gap to kiss her.

It’s slow and sweet and all thoughts of what they were doing standing at the entrance to the kitchen slips her mind —

Until her stomach growls, the noise breaking the quiet of the apartment.

She winces in embarrassment but Poe just chuckles. “So, pancakes?”

“Pancakes,” she agrees.

There’s a strange synchronicity as they move together in the kitchen, like they’ve done this before, and soon enough they’re sitting down at the kitchen table and she tries not to laugh as Poe pours more than a little syrup onto his pancakes.

They tuck into the meal, and she’s absolutely delighted. She hasn’t had pancakes in forever, though she can’t quite remember why, but they hit the spot. She grins at Poe over her bite of food, and he winks back at her as he bumps his knee into hers playfully.

There’s a part of her that thinks she should use the afternoon to work, that she’s taken off enough time from it and that she should get back to the job. Any time she takes time to just relax and enjoy the day, a sharp, vile voice in the back of her head whispers that stillness means death and decay, means no food in the fridge and a pang in her stomach, but —

Poe’s sitting next to her, a twinkle in his eyes as he meets her own over their empty plates. He has a smudge of syrup on the corner of his lips, and she can’t resist reaching out, her thumb lingering on his plush lower lip as she wipes it away. She follows it with her lips a moment later.

Work can wait. Poe stayed and she feels warm and safe and _good_ in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. She luxuriates in the kiss, the way her tongue picks up just a hint of sweetness as she licks at his lower lip.

A few moments later and she’s sending a little mental apology to her friends as he lifts her to the counter, her legs wrapping around his waist as his lips desperately kiss at every inch of her skin that he could reach.

***

Rey is sorting through her photographs, physical prints on one side of her while her laptop with its folders full of her work sits on the other. She’s never put together a portfolio before, and honestly, she’s sitting here just hoping for a little inspiration.

Then she hears a key in the lock and her focus is broken. She looks up and smiles brightly when Rose walks in.

“You wouldn’t believe the traffic on the way back!” Rose exclaims as she strides over to Rey for a hug, rocking them back and forth in her enthusiasm. 

“How bad was it?”

“We literally were able to park our car on the highway and walk around for an hour.”

“What?” Rey’s been stuck in some bad traffic before, but, “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Radio said an 18-wheeler had jack-knifed. No injuries, but they lost their cargo, and it took forever to clear,” Rose says as she sprawls out on the other half of the couch.

Rey flushes as the memories of what she had been doing on that section of the couch barely 24 hours earlier hits her, and looks away as she starts to sort her photos into neater piles. “At least everyone is okay.”

“True, but I know Finn was hoping to get back a little earlier to watch the game on TV. Complained the whole way.”

“Speaking of, where is he?”

“He said he would bring the bags up. I told him I would help, but men.” Rose huffs out a sigh, though her look is fond.

“Didn’t you two have, like, five bags between the both of you?”

“Yep. And I imagine he’s trying to bring them all up at once, so it might take him awhile.” Rose’s fond look gives way to something sharper, and Rey is startled to see Rose practically leering at her. “Which is good for you. Gives you time to hide your bra.”

Rey follows Rose’s finger where it’s pointing towards their TV stand. There, hanging from the corner, is the pale blue bra she had worn yesterday.

She vaguely remembers Poe removing it before tossing it across the room, the memories of his warm hands on her body and the searing kiss that came after far more potent.

Rey’s cheeks heat up from the combination of those memories and her embarrassment, and she rushes across the room to grab her bra and stuff it into her suitcase, all the while Rose cackles.

“Sorry,” Rey mutters, struggling for some excuse as she returns to the couch. “I guess I got a little messy when you two were away and didn’t clean up that well.”

“As long as you promise this couch is clean,” Rose says, laughing harder when Rey hides her face in her hands.

“It’s clean, I promise!” She can’t help but join in with Rose’s giggles then, amused despite her embarrassment. She figures it’s probably best not to mention the kitchen counter either.

“I’m just teasing you,” Rose grins, before her face turns serious and she sits up. “But to be perfectly clear,” and she pauses, lets the silence linger. “I’m very proud of you.”

“What?”

“C’mere, give me a high five,” she says, holding her hand up. “Get it, girl.”

“Lord, Rose,” Rey mutters, even as she reaches her hand out to smack Rose’s.

“Was it Poe? It was, wasn’t it,” Rose says with a waggle of her eyebrows. Rey buries her hands in her hands again and laughs. Rose just pokes her in the side. “Was it good?”

“Rose!” Rey leans back, shaking her head. She lets the silence stretch between them for a long moment, before letting a smile tug her lips upwards in amusement and more than a little satisfaction, and says, “It was very good.”

Rose shrieks, leaning over to throw her arms around Rey’s neck and pulling her in for a hug.

She pulls away when the door swings open and Finn, barely managing to juggle all five bags, almost topples inside and drops the bags on the floor.

“And we’re home,” Finn practically sighs, relief palpable in his voice.

Rey smiles happily at seeing her friend again. “Welcome home, Finn.”

“Everything alright while we were gone?” He asks while grabbing a few of the bags to bring to the bedroom.

“All was good!” She replies cheerfully.

Rose winks at Rey, whispers “Later,” the word full of promise before walking over to grab the last few bags.

This time it’s Rey who sprawls out on the couch, her face heating up once more as she thinks of the previous night. Rose may want the details, but the memory of the encounter is something she knows she’ll be revisiting too.

***

Finn got tied up watching the game and Rose wandered off to bed before she could talk further with Rey that night. And then Rey was awoken the next morning by a text message on her phone letting her know that one of Hollywood’s biggest actresses was in her area, and she had the chance to score photos of her having coffee with a well-known producer at a local café.

There was a rumor the actress was in the running for a role as one of the next great superhero characters. Maybe Rey would get lucky and even get a major spoiler before anyone else.

She may hate her job normally, but sometimes it had its perks.

So she scrambled off and despite her expectations, in the end it wasn’t Rose she talked to first.

It was Poe.

She had just stashed her camera in her case and scrambled away from the little café (and the actress and producer couldn’t really have been talking about the actual plot of the upcoming movie in public, could they?!) when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket.

It was Poe. _My meeting got cancelled, and I don’t have to fly east anymore. _

He follows up his first text before she even has time to respond.

_Which is nice, cause Netflix just dropped the entire third season today. You watching?_

She hates to admit it, but he knows what she does for a living, so she types out her reply. _Not yet. I had to work this morning, but I just finished up. _

_Wanna come over? I’m about to put on the first episode, but I can wait._

She bites her lip. Does he really want to watch the show? They had talked about the upcoming season the other week, once they found out it was amongst both of their favorite shows, before the whole invite to Luke Skywalker’s studio and the ensuing . . . celebration, she thinks to herself, trying to contain her blush. Or is this one of those Netflix and Chill type situations that Finn had laughingly explained to her just a few weeks ago when she had accidentally sent Rose and Finn a text asking them to do exactly that?

How was she to know that Netflix and Chill didn’t really involve watching Netflix?

She texted back, _“Sure!” _before she even knew what her fingers were doing.

He sends her his address and she rushes home to upload the photos and send them to Unkar. She dives into the shower to freshen up, laughing at herself a little for the butterflies that have taken flight in her stomach and how she’s taking all the extra effort when normally she wouldn’t care all that much about impressing someone.

Even if he only asked her over to actually watch the show, she wants to look — and smell, she thinks as she sniffs the bottle of lavender scented body wash — nice.

She wants him to think she looks and smells nice.

She laughs at herself again and finishes up.

Luckily her taxi driver doesn’t attempt to make conversation, as she’s too distracted to pay much attention to anything other than her own thoughts. Before she knows it, he’s pulling to a stop, and she thanks him as she gets out of the car.

Poe’s house, like Skywalker’s studio, seems set off the road somewhat, and she gets buzzed in at the gate before walking up the secluded path. It’s smaller than she would have imagined the house of a movie star to be, but it looks comfortable, and the bright flowers in the garden around the front of the house make her smile.

Then the door opens and Poe steps out, a small but excited corgi wiggling in his arms. The dog lets out a little yap, the sound eager and not at all threatening, and Poe looks down at it before saying something she can’t quite make out from that distance.

The dog yips again, and Poe grins. “This is BB. He’s very eager to see you again. Is that okay with you?”

She loves dogs and she thinks she might already be in love with BB. “It’s very okay.”

Poe moves to set BB on the ground, and with another nod from Rey, he lets the corgi go. Rey immediately squats down as BB comes running up to her as fast as his little legs could carry him and circles her a few times in excitement before he sits down in front of her. He pants, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, as Rey rubs the soft fur at his sides and scratches behind his ears.

“I knew it. He already likes you,” Poe says, coming over and squatting down on the other side of BB.

“Well, that’s good, cause I already love him,” she says as she looks back up at Poe.

She wonders if she imagines the redness that suddenly appeared on his cheeks, but she’s quickly distracted by the soft almost purring sound BB makes when Poe reaches out to rub his back, the dog’s eyes closing in bliss as both people pet him.

“Can I take a picture?” She doesn’t know what possesses her to ask the question, just knows the sight of Poe, relaxed and casual on his front stoop, his dog clearly overjoyed at his feet, makes for a stunning image. She has her camera with her, almost always has it on her, and she itches to feel it in her hands to capture this moment.

Something crosses his face, and suddenly her brain catches up and she winces. “I don’t mean to sell it or anything. I just thought . . . I just thought you and BB would make a nice picture.”

Poe smiles then, slow and soft, and something else, something even more pleasing, seems to cross his face. She only has the briefest of moments to consider it before he nods and says, “Sure,” and she’s digging her camera out of her bag.

She snaps the photos before BB gets too wiggly, squirming out of the frame and running up to the porch, looking over his shoulder as if to say, “Well?” before heading inside.

They follow at a slower pace, and Rey glances around as she enters the house. Like the outside, it’s warm and cozy, not at all ostentatious, with bright pops of color filling the space. Photographs line the hallways, some with faces she recognizes from the studio like Snap and Karé, and some she can only guess to be his mother and father, their faces lovingly encased in several of the frames. She knows that Shara Bey died young, but the fact is evidenced even more starkly in the photos. There’s plenty of photos of her as a young woman, plenty of photos of her with her young family, but never any photos where Poe was more than probably seven or eight years old.

He doesn’t notice the track her thoughts have taken as he shows her into the living room, Netflix already pulled up on the television, while he goes to the kitchen to grab a few sodas.

_I guess this really was about Netflix, _she thinks as she takes a moment to look around, eyes flitting about the artwork and movie posters that adorn the walls.

She sits on the couch as Poe walks back in and practically moans at how amazing the couch was. She didn’t know a couch could be this comfortable, soft and plush, but with enough support that it felt like being encased in a warm, strong hug.

Poe sits down next to her and hands her a soda. “Have to admit, the couch was my big splurge. I’m usually the go-go-go type, but when I crash, I need a good place to crash hard.”

“If this was my couch, I would never leave it.”

He smiles at her and starts the show, and as they get deeper and deeper into the episode and then start the next one, she grows more comfortable, any anxiety about missing any signals from him (and she misses signals quite often, as Finn and Rose have teased her about good-naturedly) simply fade away.

Near the end of the next episode, the heroine of the show, a stunning young woman, arrives home and sheds her expensive dress and accessories that she had put on to go undercover and save the day, only to end up in the rattiest sweatpants and hoodie that Rey’s ever seen any actress wear on TV.

Rey laughs in mirth. “That’s how you know the show has women working on it. A lot of men would’ve just put her in some sexy nightgown, short and skimpy. But honestly, who does that?”

“You’re right, you know. I know the executive producer, she’s fantastic. Really understands the importance of storytelling and representation. And more than half of their writing staff are women. Some of the best in the biz.”

“You can tell. It makes for one of the best characters I’ve ever seen on television.”

Poe points at the screen where the character holds a photograph, a myriad of vivid expressions crossing her face as she studies it. “She reminds me a lot of you, actually.”

She scoffs. “You’re kidding. She’s amazing, absolutely has her life together. Just look at that house! Okay, that part is unrealistic. I mean, how could she have afforded that on her salary?”

Poe doesn’t take the bait with her joke about the character’s unrealistic home. Instead, he just smiles sweetly and says, “She’s also incredibly empathetic and compassionate to everyone despite all the pain and suffering she’s been through. Willingly forfeits opportunities to advance herself in a personal capacity, often at the expense of her own happiness, if it means she can help someone else. She’s also totally dedicated to her friends and those she considers family, and also just completely talented at what she’s chosen to do with her life. And not just effortlessly talented either, but she’s worked hard for it.”

She’s so stunned that she can’t do anything but blink. _Is that really what he thinks of her?_

She sees a flush appear on his cheeks and he turns back to the TV, remote in hand. “You wanna watch the next episode?”

Her voice is soft when she says, “Yeah,” and he clicks the remote.

They’re about halfway through the episode and she’s feeling relaxed, a lethargy settling into her skin that only comes from being completely comfortable. She sinks further into the depths of the couch, her head leaning back far enough that it nudges Poe’s arm where he had rested it on the couch behind her earlier.

At the contact between the two, she looks over to see if it bothered him and is met with a view of his strong jawline and stubbled cheeks until he glances down to meet her eyes.

She’s comfortable enough that her insecurities have faded away, and she can’t resist asking, “Can I kiss you?”

It’s his turn to blink slowly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, eyes dropping to her lips. With a nod, she brings her hand up, sliding it along his shoulder and then his neck where she brushes against the thin metal chain of his necklace, before slipping her hand into his hair, the strands silky between her fingers, and pulling him close.

It’s slow and sensual, a slide of lips against the others. There’s no rush, not yet, just time to explore and enjoy each other’s mouths.

She didn’t initiate the kiss with any thought to taking it further, but as she continues to taste him, she wants more.

He seems to be on the same wavelength, one hand going to cradle the back of her head and the other going to support her back as he eases them down.

His body presses her into the couch, a hand stroking along her side and over her shoulder and back down, a soothing motion that does nothing to lessen the heat building beneath her skin. His hand slips beneath the hem of her shirt on one pass, and the calluses catch on her skin deliciously. She gives in to her impatience, tugging at her shirt and pulling it over her head, dislodging his lips at her neck when she does so.

She would almost feel bereft at that brief moment where contact was lost, but his lips immediately go back to kissing down the line of her throat and now there’s so much more skin bared to him, and she sighs at the feeling of his hands skating down her stomach.

He presses a kiss between her breasts, a hand slipping along the band until he reaches the clasp behind her back. She arches up and a moment later he’s pulling her bra down her arms and pressing a kiss to one of her newly bared nipples.

“What do you want?” He asks, and she shivers at the feel of his warm breath on the sensitive skin as he speaks.

She swallows, half distracted by the feel of his fingers teasing a nipple as he waits for her answer, half uncertain. She’s more content to show, not tell; words have never been her strong suit, and she’s never engaged in much dirty talk before. She wonders if that’s what this even is, or whether there’s a more straightforward meaning behind his question.

She settles on the truth, as simple as it is. “I want you.”

He presses a kiss into the smooth skin between her breasts, just above her heart. “You’ve got me.”

He leans up, his mouth taking hers again, a kiss that turns from sweet to heated in no time at all, his tongue licking at hers and teeth nipping at her lip. When she finally pulls away to gasp for breath, he presses open-mouth kisses along her jaw.

Then she can’t help but ask, “What do you want?”

She feels more than hears him groan from where he’s sucking kisses into her skin.

“I want to taste you.”

She sucks in a breath through her teeth, cause _yes_, that’s exactly what she wants too. She tells him that, and the hand that had been playing at the button of her jeans now snaps it open, and he’s sitting up to pull her pants and underwear down her legs.

Then he’s kneeling down on the floor next to her, grips her hips in his strong hands, and tugs her forward until her hips rest on the edge of the couch, just inches from his face.

She shivers at the bolt of lust that shoots through her at the sudden demonstration of his strength and desire for her.

His grin is knowing, lascivious. He knows exactly what that did to her, and he’s pleased.

His eyes, on the other hand, are hungry. She can practically feel every square inch they rake over, as if he was touching her, kissing her even, and not just simply looking at her.

He licks his lips and she feels her nerves alight in anticipation and she closes her eyes, eager for that first touch, and —

And then she feels him press a kiss to the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee and she gasps, part in delight and part in frustration, eyes popping open to see him grinning at her with that devil-may-care look in his eyes.

He knows exactly what he did. She narrows her eyes at him, but that smile of his only grows wider.

This time when he leans in to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, he scrapes his teeth gently against the skin, and she groans his name even as she tries to press her hips forward.

For a long moment, all Poe does is stare at her, all heat and hunger, and then he pulls his shirt off, grips her thighs in his hands, and leans forward to lick a hot stripe up her cunt.

She wasn’t quite expecting the sudden change from the playful teasing to Poe diving in with a ferocity that leaves her almost senseless immediately, but she digs her hands into his hair, chanting his name as he devours her. He’s merciless, his mouth wrapped around her clit as his fingers delve into her, finger fucking her as she rapidly approaches what she knows to be an earthshattering orgasm.

When she comes, she just barely manages to hold back a scream, her back arching as if all her nerves were attempting to take flight in their pleasure, until she sags back down with a final gasp of his name, her limbs going boneless as the shivers subside.

Her eyes are closed, but then she feels his fingers twitch where they remain inside her, and her eyes pop open to see a smug, if still hungry, look in Poe’s eyes.

He raises an eyebrow. “Again?”

By the time she’s coming down from her second orgasm, her voice is slightly hoarse from the moans and gasps of his name that he’s elicited from her, his five-o-clock shadow had marked up the inside of her thighs, and she feels like she’s floating from the sheer amount of pleasure that he’s already given her today.

She opens her eyes to see his cheek resting against her thigh where he still kneels beside her, his gaze adoring as he looks up at her. Then she spies the faint sheen that lines his lips, the evidence of the pleasure he’s given her, and she’s hauling him up by the shoulders to lay on top of her, hungry for him once more.

She wonders if she’ll ever stop feeling hungry for this man.

He quickly sheds his jeans before pulling a condom out of the pocket (and he blushes when he does, tries to tell her, “I don’t usually . . . it’s not like I was expecting anything like this, but I — I was just,” and he falters, so she just leans up and kisses him, whispering in his mouth, “I’m glad you did”) and then he’s working it down his length and stretching out atop her once more, his body pressed against hers, nothing but his bare skin and the cool metal of his necklace and its ring against her.

“You still good?”

“Yes,” she tells him, and then she’s groaning the word again as he lines himself up and guides himself inside her.

He gives her a second to adjust, but she can’t wait, arching her hips up into his to get him moving. He complies, his hips moving in a slow, easy pace until she’s squirming beneath him, her breath coming out in pants.

On one downward thrust, he hits that perfect spot within her, the one he had shown himself adept at finding earlier, and she chokes on a gasp, hips pressing up even as her fingernails bury themselves in his back.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, his head dropping to her shoulder as his hips speed up. “You feel so good. So perfect.”

In between his gasps and moans, he continues to murmur into her ear, sweet and dirty, and she’s so close, _so very close _. . .

He works his hand between them, stirs circles on her clit, and then she’s choking back a shout as she comes, his body shaking above hers as he follows her over the edge.

They cling to each other as they catch their breath. She runs her hand through his hair, fighting the growing drowsiness that usually happens after she’s had a good orgasm (and here she’s had three _exceptional _orgasms in a single afternoon, she thinks with a bit of smugness, no wonder she’s tired.) She knows she needs to get up, they both do, both needing to clean up after their activities, but everything in her is desperate to stay exactly where she is, curled up in his arms.

Then the sound of a distant barking fills the room, and she opens her eyes to see Poe looking at his watch.

“Right on the dot. BB usually goes out at this time, and he’s a stickler for punctuality,” he says, smoothing a hand over her hair as he smiles gently down at her.

“Wouldn’t want to make him wait,” she says, even though she makes no effort to move.

Neither does Poe. At least until BB lets out two more barks in relatively short order.

Poe glances toward the hallway that leads to the back of the house. “You want to come? I’m sure he’ll be excited to play with his favorite person.”

That gets a bright smile from her and she nods.

They quickly get cleaned up and dressed and somewhere in the midst of that she notices that the current episode of their show was coming to an end, and she realizes with a gasp that a character who most assuredly was not alive in the last episode is now standing in the doorway of the main character’s house and she hurriedly covers her eyes.

“Whoops,” Poe laughs, already moving to stop the episode. “Guess we got a little distracted.”

Rey whaps him on the bicep even as she’s giggling too. “I blame you entirely, sir. This is all your fault.”

“Next time you’ll just have to remind me to pause it,” he says, slipping into his shoes as BB comes trotting into the room trying to see what was taking them so long.

Rey can feel her face heat up at the mention of a next time, hopes he doesn’t turn around and spy her blush, wondering if this was just another one-off (_a two-off?_) or whether he actually wants a next time.

There are a million thoughts racing through her head. So instead she just says, “I can’t believe that happened! Now I’m going to be wondering how that character is still actually alive!”

“Guess we’re just going to have to start it from the beginning once we get back inside,” he says, grinning as he opens the back door and BB trots out, dancing in circles around a tennis ball waiting out there for him.

Poe picks it up and throws it, sending BB flying after the ball.

Guess she’ll be spending a little more time with them that evening.

Rey smiles at the thought.


	7. Chapter 7

“Have a good day, you two!” Finn calls out over his shoulder, grabbing his bookbag as he heads for the front door. “Let me know if you want me to pick up pizza or something on the way home.”

“Yes!” Rey and Rose exclaim in unison, giggling as they realize what they’ve just done.

“Well, alright then,” Finn chuckles, waving at them as he leaves.

Rey planned to spend the morning at the apartment working on her portfolio for Luke Skywalker. She hoped to bring it by his studio later that week, eager to hear his impressions on her work, not to mention hopeful that he would agree to take her on as his apprentice.

At the same time, she kept checking her savings account, seeing it inch ever closer to the amount she needed to buy out her contract with Unkar. Freedom was so close she could almost taste it — taste it and possibly the chance to get her own place with the leftover cash.

Rose sits next to her on the couch scrolling through her phone and occasionally sneaking peeks at Rey’s selection of photos. “The one on the left, definitely,” she says while Rey closely examines two photographs pulled up side by side on her computer.

Rey nods, hits a few keys, and it’s saved to her collection.

“So . . . how’s Poe doing?”

“Rose!” Rey sputters out, laughing at her friend’s complete lack of subtlety.

Rose just shrugs before leaning in and raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

Rey sighs, pushing her laptop away from her and leaning back on the couch. She needs a break anyway and she knows Rose won’t leave it alone, unless Rey told her the topic was off limits and, well . . .

Rey wanted to talk to someone about this. It’s still an unusual feeling to have people she could open up to, and although Finn was her first and best friend, this feels like something she wants to talk to Rose about. This feels like something she should talk to a sister about, and although Rey’s never had one, maybe Rose could help her think this through.

Plus, Rose already knew about Rey’s first encounter with Poe while her and Finn were out of town, even though they hadn’t had time to talk about it since. Now that there was a second one, Rose was already well ahead of the curve.

So, she starts talking. “I think he’s doing well. He’s out of town filming some TV appearances and working on a project to secure some funding for a children’s art therapy project, so he’s pretty busy.”

He had seemed happy as he was preparing to leave, and then later had called her excitedly after he had visited the center he was helping to secure funds for, marveling at the projects the center’s director was hoping to put together with additional funding. During that conversation that had lasted well into the late evening hours, he had even told her about a dream of his that he had been puttering around with for a while of possibly starting his own similar project, a foundation to help the underserved in the community, a way to pay it forward.

However, he had seemed less enthused for the string of publicity visits he had to do, the back to back interviews that began early today.

Rose, who has leaned back so the arm of the couch is propping her up, nudges Rey’s thigh with her foot. “Oooh, you two been keeping in touch? Been talking after hooking up here?”

Rey feels her cheeks heat and, resting her head on the back of the couch, mumbles, “You could say that.”

“What else could you say?”

“I may have gone over to his place the other day.”

“Rey!” Rose leans forward, wrapping her arms around her knees as she grins at Rey. “You didn’t tell me this!”

“It just happened,” Rey grins, amused at Rose’s obvious excitement.

“So, it’s a thing? You two are a thing?”

A long moment of silence stretches between the two as Rey searches for what to say. She’s hooked up with Poe twice now. Neither of those times were planned and she and Poe haven’t really talked about it either. “I . . . don’t know?” She replies, hesitantly.

The grin drops off Rose’s face, her gaze becoming searching. “You two haven’t talked about it?”

“No. I mean, it’s been nice. It’s been fun, actually! He’s really sweet and kind, just a really good person, you know? But I can’t imagine that it’s really crossed his mind. He’s so busy, plus why would he be looking for a relationship or anything like that, especially from someone like me?”

Rose reaches out and shoves Rey’s shoulder lightly, and Rey glances at her, confused. “First of all, don’t talk about my friend like that. She’s awesome and anyone would be extremely lucky to be in a relationship with her, you hear me?”

Rose continues to stare at her determinedly until Rey nods, a small smile gracing her face as she says, “Okay.”

Rose gives her own satisfied nod. “Okay then. So, he’s kind and sweet and really, really hot,” which causes Rey to giggle and Rose to exclaim, “Just stating the obvious! And he’s a really good guy apparently. But the real question is, how do you feel about him?”

Rey sighs, unable to hide the truth from her friend, much less herself, anymore. “I really, really like him.”

Rose squeals in delight. “I knew it! And trust me honey, I’ve seen him around you. He likes you like that, too.”

The idea that Poe might have similar feelings — and that they’re so obvious that her friends have picked up on them — causes a flush of warmth to unspool through her. She feels almost hopeful, and for once she doesn’t try to fight that feeling. “You think so?”

“I really do.”

“You don’t think this might just be some sort of rebound thing for me? That my last relationship ended so,” and she casts about for the right words, all of them seeming too insubstantial in light of the destructive power of the last guy, “horribly and disastrously, that I would just latch on to the first guy to show me any affection?”

Rose laughs, but it’s not unkind. “Rey, I’ve known you long enough to know that you don’t give your heart to just anyone so easily. Nor are you so flighty that you’re the type to look for a rebound. You’re loyal and steadfast, and you’re exceptionally kind and compassionate. You’re not going to play around just on a whim. If you say you like him, then trust yourself. Trust your feelings.”

She searches Rose’s face and finds nothing but honesty there. Rey sinks further into the cushions and asks, “So what do I need to do?”

Rose shrugs. “Talk to him.”

“That’s helpful.”

“Not much else you can do. And no one said it would be easy.”

Rey sighs. “It never is, is it?”

Rose leans over to clasp Rey’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “When it comes to the important things . . . no, it never is.”

With a final squeeze Rose lets go and settles back against the couch once more, a wide smile springing to her face. “So, the sex. It was good, wasn’t it? He looks like he’d be good.”

“Rose!” Rey exclaims, reaching over to throw a pillow towards Rose, the petite girl laughing in delight as she reaches out to grab it and throw it back at her friend, the two girls dissolving into laughter.

***

Rey sits outside a little restaurant just down a secluded, tree covered path from a small building housing both a clothing boutique and a magic shop. A handful of benches line the path and she basks in the sunlight that filters in through the thick branches above her.

Apparently, the restaurant is another favorite of Poe’s. More homey than the fancy bistros that line the wealthier streets of the city, although she’s never been inside. From the outside though, it’s easy for Rey to tell that this is a place that she would like, unpretentious and relaxed, even as tarps and scaffolding line the front of it.

Poe had suggested this place for their session as a way to help out a friend of his. Maz Kanata was the longtime proprietor of the restaurant and a group of vandals had targeted her place recently, leaving thousands of dollars of damage in their wake. The vandals had never been identified, and while business had remained steady, Poe had hoped that the publicity might bring in a bit more money to help ease Maz’s troubles.

She sees movement at the front door and goes to grab her camera, relaxing once more when she sees Snap walk out alone. She grins and waves at him as he approaches

“He’s just saying his goodbyes to Maz,” Snap says when he gets to her. “I’m going to step next door to the magic shop real quick, but Poe should be out in a minute.”

That piqued her curiosity. “You do magic?”

Snap grins. “I tried, but never got the hang of it. My cousin is fantastic at it though. That’s his shop. If you’re ever looking for lessons or any sort of magic gear or someone to do parties, just ask for him — Eric Weiss.”

She smiles at the idea of taking magic lessons. She would love to see people’s faces when she “levitates” things or makes things appear out of thin air. “Maybe I’ll have to check it out. Thanks, Snap.”

“Sure,” he says. “And I’m sorry that you’ll only get a minute. I’m gonna have to steal him away to get to the studio for an interview pretty soon. My fault that we got caught up in traffic after leaving the producer’s office earlier.”

She shakes her head. “No apologies necessary. I won’t keep him long.”

“Maybe it’s not you that I’m worried about,” he says with a wink as he turns to leave.

She’s confused, but she doesn’t have long to think about Snap’s comments when the restaurant door opens again and Poe walks out besides a petite lady adorned in practical clothing and the largest pair of glasses Rey’s ever seen. Rey figures that must be Maz, and she raises her camera to begin snapping pictures.

After only a few seconds, the woman looks straight at her, her eyes clearly visible behind those large glasses.

Rey falters with her camera, the woman’s sharp and perceptive gaze catching her off guard. Then, the woman winks at her, amused and knowing, before turning back to Poe and taking his hands in both of hers and saying something to him.

She can just make out the red of his cheeks as Poe smiles shyly and glances down at the ground quickly. With a final pat to his hands, the woman lets go and Poe seems to chuckle nervously, his emotions clearly visible on his face even from this distance.

She wonders what they’re talking about, but she keeps her camera focused on the pair as they glance towards the restaurant once more before Poe puts a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder.

With a final word, unknowable from this distance, the pair part, Poe waving goodbye at the woman as she heads back inside.

Rey sets her camera down and grins at Poe as he approaches.

“Did Snap give you a heads up?” Poe asks, smiling as he steps up to her.

“He sure did,” she responds, before hooking a thumb over her shoulder and saying, “He just stepped into the magic shop for a moment.”

Poe grins. “I figured. He might not admit it, but he loves the magic stuff.” Then Poe leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Plus, I don’t know if you’ve ever had a chance to meet his cousin Eric, but they look so similar that sometimes I think they’re long lost twins.”

“Really?”

“The resemblance is uncanny. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were the same person.”

“I’ll have to check that out sometime.”

“Please do, and then let me know what you think.” A long moment passes where Poe just stands there, smiling at her, and she tries to think of something to say but that smile of his is driving her to distraction. Finally, he clears his throat and says, “Hope you got a couple good ones in there.”

“Maybe one or two,” she teases.

“The light really is amazing out here for pictures,” Poe says, briefly gazing up at where the sunlight filters in through the trees.

“It really is.” Then, with more confidence than she feels, manages to say, “And the subject was as lovely as always.”

His eyes meet hers and widen momentarily before that same, almost shy smile from earlier graces his face. “Sometimes I wonder . . .”

She sees the blush appear on his cheeks and is suddenly desperate to hear him finish his thought. “Wonder what?”

He shakes his head, his blush only deepening. “It’s just — I wonder what it’d be like if you’re in front of the camera. You’re a natural behind it, it’s just I think you would really be amazing on the other side of it, too.”

“Me? I’m just a nobody.”

“You’re not a nobody,” he says, voice firm and resolute, before it gentles once more. “You’re wonderful. You’re quick as a whip and hilarious and so caring, and you have the most amazing expressions cross your face, it’s just incredible to watch. And,” and here he can’t quite meet her eyes anymore, and his voice grows even softer. “And you just have the most beautiful face. There’s a glow about you. It’s like sunshine.”

It feels like the ground shifts beneath her feet and she’s stunned speechless.

She wants to dig deeper, to figure out what he means, see if his sweet words might contain even an inkling of the same emotion contained within her.

Then Snap appears from around the corner. “Poe, we need to get on the road now if we’re going to make it to the studio on time.”

Poe dips his head in acknowledgment, an almost forlorn look on his face as he looks back at her. “I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah,” she says, feeling adrift now that the moment is broken.

“We can figure it out later? The next meeting, I mean?”

It’s enough to give her a little hope, as well as a little space to try to think things through. “Sounds good,” she says, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Poe’s smile is tentative at first before it blossoms into something sweeter, and then he’s headed down the lane with Snap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you enjoyed the last few chapters of sweetness and fluffiness because the drama might be returning shortly. And by might be, I mean that in my outline, I had titled the next chapter as "The Return of Unkar," so just a heads up, there's that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that this chapter was going to be very, very long, so I broke it in half, and I added a chapter to the final count.
> 
> On that note, it's time for the return of Unkar.

Rey struts down the hallway and bounds the stairs. She’s feeling good — _no,_ _she’s feeling great_ — and if she has a little extra swagger to her step, well, who could blame her? The twenty-something bro on the street corner who gives her a wolf whistle doesn’t even phase her, she just flips him off and continues walking to the bus stop.

She adjusts her messenger bag over her shoulder as she boards. She had already emailed a digital copy of her portfolio to Luke Skywalker, but he wanted a hardcopy as well. Apparently, he’s still pretty traditional in some ways, even as he seems, well, rather new age in others.

She’s taking the bus most of the way before getting a taxi the rest in her best effort to try to budget her money, especially as her savings is about to take a big hit.

The thought, paradoxically, makes her smile. She’s about to buy her freedom from Unkar, she’s about to be _free_.

Her phone buzzes and if she thought she couldn’t get any happier, well, she was glad to be proven wrong as she sees a text from Poe.

_And finally made it home! Just landed at the airport, thought I’d say hello._

_Aww, did you miss me? _She has no idea what possesses her to say it, but she’s hit send before she can second guess herself.

The reply is almost instantaneous. _Very much. What you up to today?_

She thinks of the last time their text messages had turned this way, and the heat rises to her cheeks so quickly and strongly that she’s sure her blush must be visible all the way across the bus, but she keeps her attention on her phone. _Heading over to Skywalker’s to drop my portfolio off first. And then *drum roll please* I’m headed to Unkar’s to buy out my contract!_

_Congratulations, sunshine! I’m so happy for you!_

She stares at her phone for a long moment, marveling at the term of endearment. Finn and Rose will occasionally use a nickname, call her peanut or Rey-Rey, but this . . . this is new, and she smiles at her phone even though no one can see it.

Even as her mind turns the term of endearment over and over in her head, she types out a reply, not wanting to ignore him. _Thank you! In a few hours, I shall be a free woman._

Poe’s reply comes through quickly. _Shall we celebrate?_

She grins. _Sounds good to me!_

Within a few minutes, they have a plan to meet up at a local bistro at six that evening, not Maz’s, not now with all the extra attention on it, but a similarly relaxed, mellow place where they — well, Poe, really she thinks — wouldn’t be bothered by any fans.

The feeling that she’s walking on sunshine (and she smiles once again at the thought of Poe calling her sunshine) continues even as she makes her way inside of Luke Skywalker’s studio where she’s ushered into the large room where Poe had his photoshoot. She sets her bag on a nearby table and glances around, once again awestruck at the idea that this is where the magic happens.

“So, tell me about your portfolio.”

Rey is startled by the sudden appearance of Luke Skywalker and his question delivered without any preamble. She strives to recover quickly, not eager for the man to see any nervousness or hesitation on her part, not when his training could be so integral for her career, for her future.

He points to her bag and she rushes over to pull out the portfolio and set it in front of him. With an approving nod from her, he flips it open.

“It’s about family,” she says, watching as he studies the first photograph. “What we live for, what we stay for.”

She watches as he flips through the collection of photographs. Finn and Rose are present in more than a few, their joyous smiles while gazing upon each other contrasting with other, more sorrowful expressions, where the two are obviously holding each other up in times of trouble. Rey’s grateful that the two had given her permission to take the photos in the first place, something in her gut telling her to document those moments so long ago, much less give her permission to include them here.

There are other photographs, too. There’s a behind the scenes photograph from when Rey had done a newborn photoshoot for one of Finn’s friends. This picture hadn’t been one of the carefully staged photos. No, this one showed the newborn clearly in the midst of heavy sobs, its parents cooing over it, the mother stroking his wisps of hair as the little infant clutched tightly at the father’s finger.

She was overcome with a multitude of feelings then, love and affection and even a little envy, and she had snapped the picture despite the ache in her heart.

There were more photographs in that collection, some portraying the traditional family like the one with the infant, but even more of the found family variety, the kind she was so grateful to be a part of with Finn and Rose.

They helped her get to this point. They were her hope and inspiration and her home. To her, they were everything, and she never for a moment doubted that she was the same to them.

They were her family.

Even a photograph of Poe had made it in the portfolio with his permission, when he was crouched down on the ground playing with BB. There was so much love and affection between the two that there was no doubt in her mind that they were each other’s family, too.

She saw Luke’s lips tip up into a small smile at that, but he didn’t say anything as he turned the page to continue examining the photos.

He asks her a few more questions and she does her best to respond, hoping that she could impress him with her answers. He studies her for a long moment, and with an enigmatic smile, he simply says, “I’ll be in touch,” before exiting the room.

Part of her wishes for a more solid answer from him in that moment, but there’s something in her gut that tells her it will work out. She knows she has put together an incredible portfolio for him. She knows she has the talent and the skill. He would be lucky to have her as an apprentice.

She walks out with her head held high. She could wait a little longer for his answer.

Now she just needs to head to Unkar’s and take care of that so she can begin her new life. Can’t start an apprenticeship while being tied to him, she thinks. She grins to herself as she boards the bus to take her on her journey back to the edge of town where Unkar’s offices reside in a seedy portion of the city.

The journey goes quickly, no doubt because she’s lost in her visions of the future during the trip. She tries to control her excitement as she exits the bus, but her heart keeps up a strong, steady thrum in her chest as she walks to the building.

She enters the office, wrinkling her nose at the foul stench that seems to have permanently imbued the air there. She smooths her face out though, when she sees one of Unkar’s youngest paparazzi, a girl who couldn’t be much older than 18, approach her. She doesn’t know the girl’s name, but Rey gives her a small smile, hoping to give the girl some comfort, small as it may be. Rey recognizes that look in her eyes. She’s hungry, and for something far more than just career advancement.

Something fizzes through her blood at the injustice of it all. She might be about to escape, but she knows there are those who can’t.

She spies Unkar’s shadow through the frosted glass of his office’s window and she raps her knuckles firmly on the door.

She doesn’t even wait for him to invite her to enter. She has the power now.

He scowls at her from where he sits behind his desk. “What do you want now, girl?”

“Girl?” She scoffs. “I’ve brought you some of your biggest pictures in years. I deserve more respect than that.”

He looks less than thrilled at her talking back, but he just sits back in his chair. “Do you have more of those?”

“Not today.”

Unkar scowls and turns back to his computer.

“But I have money,” she says, pulling an envelope out of her bag and placing it on his desk.

He reaches over, undoes the clasp and looks in. “What is this for?”

“I’m buying out my contract, Unkar.”

He scoffs and pushes the envelope back towards her.

Her heart drops in her chest. “This is more than enough. I’ve read the section. This more than pays back the debt.”

She pushes the envelope back towards him, but Unkar just leans back in his chair and folds his meaty arms across his chest. “Didn’t read it closely enough, girl.”

“What do you mean? It says I can buy out the contract if I pay back the initial loan plus interest,” she says, taking out her battered copy of the contract and laying it in front of him. She pokes her finger at the clause. “See? Right there.”

His hand reaches out and she follows the line of his finger where it points at the clause directly beneath.

“The buyout option is at my discretion,” he says, smirking, and the look is so foul that it makes bile rise in her throat.

She reads the words over and over again. How could she have missed that? Had her hope blinded her to the obvious?

Unkar continued. “And today my discretion says no.”

“But why?” She sputters, struggling to comprehend what’s happening. Everything’s going so wrong. “The money’s here in front of you. It’s more valuable, more than I could’ve brought in anyway.”

His smile is hideous. “Maybe in the past. But now? Now you’ve brought in photos of the hottest and most reclusive celebrity in Hollywood. You have any idea what that’s worth? Your money doesn’t even touch what those sorts of photos are worth.” At her disbelieving look he points an accusing finger at her. “And don’t think you can just stop. You still have to hit your quotas. You still owe me.”

She’s furious. She’s so angry she can spit. But she has no idea how to argue with him now. She has no idea how to get out of the contract, not when she still owes the debt to him.

She feels like a fool.

A moment later and he’s shoving her out of his office, slamming the door in her face.

She doesn’t know what to do or where to go. Rose and Finn are at the apartment, but she can’t face them right now.

So, she wanders.

She gets on the bus, then gets off, walks through a park that she recognizes but can’t quite recall the name of. She turns back around and walks down one street after another, her face angled toward the ground so she doesn’t have to see the looks on others around her.

Her eyes are blurry, but she refuses to cry. Not here. Not yet.

Somehow her legs lead her to a bench where she sits down.

She just breathes, a slow and steady in and out.

She has no idea how much time has passed. Cars pass in the street in front of her, but she doesn’t pay them much attention.

She feels a faint buzzing against her hip, an occasional vibration that she barely notices, at least until it’s happened a few more times.

She blinks heavily and realizes her phone is ringing.

She pulls it out but she’s already missed the call from Poe along with a series of texts stretching more than an hour. She briefly thinks about ignoring it, but his concern bleeds through the words on the screen.

_Heading to the restaurant now, can’t wait to see you to celebrate!_

_Hey, it’s a little after 6. I’m at the bistro, just wanted to check in and see where you’re at. If you’re hungry I can go ahead and order an appetizer or something for you._

_Rey? It’s almost 7, are you okay? Did everything go alright at Unkar’s?_

_Just let me know you’re okay_

The call had come through right after that last text. She listens to his voicemail. His voice, soft and full of worry, makes her want to cry.

She can’t let him worry. She calls, and he picks up on the first ring.

“Rey? Sunshine, are you okay?”

“Poe.” She meant to reassure him that everything was fine, but her voice breaks on his name. “He said no.”

“What do you mean? Unkar?”

“There’s a clause in the contract about the buyout option. It’s at his discretion. He says no. I still,” and she practically chokes around the words, “I still have to work for him.”

“No,” Poe replies, voice agonized. “No, I’m sure there’s a way out of it. I’m sure of it.”

She laughs, but it’s without any mirth. “It’s written right there in black and white.”

“We can take a look at it together. We’ll figure it out, I promise you. But where are you? I totally understand if you don’t want to meet me here now, but are you okay?”

She glances around her. It seems to be a fairly safe area. She sees a few women walking with their children, popping into stores here and there, but she’s unfamiliar with the street. “I don’t know,” she says, hurriedly adding, “It’s safe though,” when she can practically feel Poe’s panic through the phone. “I just needed to get some air and wander around for a bit.” She eyes the sky, where it’s slowly turning to dusk and sighs.

“Do you want to be alone? Or I could come pick you up, if you want. If you want company or just want a ride home, I can — I can do that.”

It’s her turn to protest, but she hasn’t seen a bus travel down this road, and she doesn’t want to call a taxi. There’s a part of her, still hopeful, that is determined to hold onto the money in case she gets another chance to buy out her contract.

A minute later, she’s dropping a pin into the map to send him and she settles back into the bench to wait.

Sooner than expected she sees his car come down the street and pull to a stop in front of her. Her legs feel unexpectedly heavy as she makes her way to his car and she settles into the passenger seat with something akin to relief, even if the ache in her heart refuses to abate.

He merges back into traffic heading for the highway. It’s quiet for the first few minutes and she senses more than sees the worried looks he gives her out of the corner of his eye while he drives.

They’re idling at a stop light when he finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to take you home? I’ll take you wherever you want to go, just gotta tell me where.”

“Can we go to yours? I don’t want to be alone and . . . ” she trails off before glancing out the window once again. She’s been denied comfort and affection for so much of her life that it’s difficult to ask for it even now.

She doesn’t want to see his face if he denies her. But it takes no time at all for him to agree.

He pulls into his garage, the door slipping shut behind the car as they enter. The moment he gets the door to the house unlocked and they walk inside, she’s met with all the love and affection of an excitable corgi as BB runs to greet her, barely looking at Poe as he jumps up and places his furry paws on Rey’s legs to beg for her attention.

When she sits on the couch, her arms immediately fill with the squirming dog. Poe’s smile is soft as he looks at the two and he reaches over to give BB a quick scratch behind his ears.

“Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water and all sorts of soda or even something harder if that’s what you want,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Orange soda?” she asks with a shy grin. She knows it seems like a drink made for a child, and she’s a full-grown woman, but there’s something about the sweet soda that always brings her a measure of comfort when she’s upset.

“I’ve got that,” he replies, already headed into the kitchen like a man on a mission. “Anything else?”

“Maybe vodka too?”

“Coming right up.”

She thinks he would come back with her orange soda and maybe something else for him to drink and the vodka too, so she’s a little startled when he comes back bearing a tray laden down not only with the cups and drinks but food as well and a bag hanging off his arm.

She can make out the distinctive Oreo wrapper and a carton of chocolate chip cookies and a couple of containers of what appears to be chip dip as he approaches. Then he pulls out several kinds of chips as he unloads the bag.

“There’s ice cream in the freezer. And I’m pretty sure I’ve got syrup and sprinkles too. Maybe even cherries.”

She’s still miserable but for the first time that evening, her lips quirk up in a smile. “Poe Dameron, why do you have so much junk food in your house? You just got back.”

He shrugs, even as a grin teases at his lips. “I told you I tend to veg out after big trips. Go big or go home, I say. Or I guess stay home and go big? I dunno, something like that.”

She bumps her shoulder into his, quickly stuffing an Oreo into her mouth before grabbing the vodka and pouring a healthy measure of it into one of the cups filled with ice Poe had brought back with him.

He follows her lead, though he stops pouring well before she had. Once she’s topped her own drink off with the orange soda, she passes it to him.

He flips the television on and pulls up Netflix before passing her the remote. “Your call.”

She starts looking at the options, but is immediately distracted by the list of recent shows Poe’s watched and the recommendations. “You watch a lot of rom-coms,” she says. That wouldn’t have been her first guess, but in retrospect, it makes sense.

He just grins and shrugs at her again.

She’s not really in the mood for something romantic or sappy or even something too dramatic. She feels like she’s been in a whirlwind of emotions all day before being tossed into the pit of despair that is the thought of having to keep working for Unkar. She needs something that is soft and soothing.

She sees The Great British Bake Off in Poe’s list of shows and pulls up the first episode and leans back into the couch, snacks in hand.

Sometime during that first episode, without her even realizing she was doing it, she had leaned into Poe’s side, her head resting against his shoulder. His arm was around her shoulder, a gentle pressure that made her feel comforted but not caged. It was nice.

When the credits of the episodes roll, she leans forward to refresh her drink with a hefty pour of vodka and orange soda and grab a handful of chips.

Poe had just grabbed the package of cookies she passed to him when he asks, “How you doing? Feeling any better?”

“Fuck Unkar,” she growls, the words muffled by a mouthful of chips. She wasn’t feeling particularly dignified in the face of her still simmering anger.

“Fuck Unkar,” he responds, and she reaches over to gently tap her cup with his.

When she doesn’t make any further move to respond, he doesn’t push her, which she appreciates, and he just lets her tuck herself back into his side once more.

Somewhere between the second and third (or maybe the fourth? She’s lost track of time between her sadness and anger and her slowly increasing tipsiness thanks to the alcohol) when she feels Poe adjust, setting his cup on the little side table next to him as he relaxes a little further into the couch. Suddenly she’s very aware of his warm body beside hers, the strong arm around her and the gentle motion of his chest under her head as he breathes slow and steady and it’s like a slowly simmering flame has suddenly burst into life in her blood, setting her nerves alight.

She lifts her head, looks at him from beneath lowered eyelashes as she lays her hand on his chest.

He grins at her, not quite catching on, and asks, “You need a break? Want me to pause it?”

She shakes her head, gazes into his eyes before letting her eyes drop to his lips for a long moment before raising them once more, subtlety be damned. She leans in until she feels his lips, warm and plush, beneath her own, a hand slipping behind his head to dive into his hair. She sighs as she tastes the sweetness of the chocolate lingering in his mouth as he responds to her.

But then she feels gentle hands on her shoulders and they’re separating.

“Not like this,” he says, his eyes slowly blinking open as he pulls away. She feels her face burn in mortification. But then his hand comes up to cradle her cheek. “It’s not a rejection. Trust me. But it’s just . . . we’ve both had too much to drink.”

She knows she’s drunk more than usual this evening, and by the number of times she’s refilled her cup that she’s easily outpaced him, someone who easily has fifty or more pounds on her. She swallows heavily and nods. “Okay. Is it alright if — if I stay?” she asks, as she makes a vague motion up and down his body.

She’s grateful that he seems to understand her meaning, and his look is gentle, fond even. “Are you asking to keep cuddling?”

There’s something about that word and what they were doing before that almost feels more intimate than any sexual activity she had been intent on just moments before. She files that thought away for later, too weary to examine it too closely right now.

She nods and he opens his arms for her. She dives back in and rests her head on his chest and sighs as his arm wraps around her shoulders once more.

She feels safe and comfortable.

She feels loved, even.

They keep watching TV, the soothing tones of the baking competition filling the air, and her eyes slowly grow heavier as his hand strokes her hair. She feels him move once, sometime when she’s halfway between wakefulness and sleep, only to feel a soft blanket pulled over her, the edges tucked in around her shoulders. Safely nestled in the little cocoon with him, she finally falls asleep.

***

She awakens to a panting in her ear and warm and foul-smelling breath washing over her face. She immediately wrinkles her nose and opens her eyes to see the utterly unrepentant offender smiling at her.

Once he sees she’s awake, he immediately darts in, his rough tongue licking up her cheek.

“BB!” She laughs, gently pushing away the excited corgi. “C’mon now, it’s too early for that.”

BB just keeps smiling, completely unbothered by her protests.

She reaches out to rub his ears as she takes in her surroundings. She’s a bit puzzled, having never seen the room before, but it’s obvious that it belongs to Poe. She doesn’t even think it’s a guest bedroom, not with the warm orange quilt laying on the bed, the photos and knickknacks filling the room, his familiar leather jacket resting on a chair in the corner.

She doesn’t remember coming in here. He must have carried her.

Except for the part of the bed she slept in, the rest of it is unrumpled, the sheets still tucked in on the other side.

She feels a brief lance of disappointment that he hadn’t stayed with her, even though she understands and appreciates why he didn’t stay.

BB’s ears perk up and he scampers off the bed, sending her one last look over his shoulder as if he expects her to follow as he trots out of the room.

She stands to follow and suddenly her mind, which had been completely occupied by BB since the moment she had awakened, reminds her of yesterday’s events.

If she had hoped that sleep might dull her anger and sorrow, she was sadly mistaken.

She follows her ears to the kitchen where Poe stands, barefoot and in sweatpants and old t-shirt, in front of the stove. She can make out the scent of bread toasting and coffee brewing in its pot in the corner.

He’s even set out an electric kettle with a few different types of tea next to it.

He glances over his shoulder and spies her as she comes into the kitchen. “Feeling alright? No hangover or anything?”

She mentally catalogues her body and shakes her head. “No hangover.”

Poe grins. “Lucky.”

She shrugs and grins backs. She is lucky. She doesn’t drink all that often, but still, she’s only ever experienced one hangover in her life. She hopes her luck lasts.

BB hangs out beneath their feet, eagerly lapping up scraps of food as they eat, only trotting off to his bed beneath the window when Poe’s and Rey’s plates are empty and he’s finished off his coffee and she’s sipping the last of her tea.

But when Poe grabs their plates and heads for the dishwasher, she hears him clear his throat. “You can tell me to shut up if I’m way out of line, but I got to thinking last night and got on google for a bit. That clause you described? It sounded really fucked up, and I’m not entirely sure it’s legal.”

He’s so cautious, hesitant to further hurt her after the events of the last day, that it only serves to further endear him to her. It takes her mind a moment to catch up to what exactly he’s said though. “Legal? What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t think he could put a clause like that in a contract.”

“I signed it though.” His comment prickles at her brain though and she paces back and forth for a moment, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway,” she says with a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I could get a lawyer.”

Poe’s hesitant when he asks, “What if I could help you find one?”

“I don’t want your charity.”

“I know. But I know someone who’s dedicated, a real public servant. She’s amazing, has worked for justice as long as I’ve known her. She might be able to give you some advice.”

“But I don’t think it’s even just me. There’s several others there who I bet are under Unkar’s thumb, too.”

“Seems like that’s even a better reason to ask her for advice.”

It’s like a lightbulb goes off in her head. Suddenly, there’s a whole other reason to fight — several other reasons, in fact, as she thinks back to the girl she passed in the hallway yesterday, another boy she sees eating packets of Ramen in the small, dilapidated office kitchen, a steady stream of workers broken down just struggling to survive.

Suddenly she knows how to channel her anger at Unkar, her frustration and sadness.

She turns and faces Poe head on, looking him straight in the eye, steel in her spine. “How do I get in touch with this woman?”


	9. Chapter 9

To be honest, the attorney wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

First of all, when Poe had said he knew a lawyer, she expected someone in one of those high-priced firms downtown, sitting behind a massive desk in a well-appointed office, who bills more in an hour than she makes all month.

She expected someone who worked on contracts or in the entertainment industry, someone in employment law maybe.

Instead, she shows up to a government office filled with harried government workers.

Though to be fair, when she gave them her name, she was immediately led to the corner office.

When Poe had said Leia Organa would meet with her, the name struck a chord in her memory, but it is only now that she recognizes why.

Leia Organa is the district attorney.

Although it is a fairly elegant office, it’s also more utilitarian than she might expect from someone with such a well-known reputation. It is practical, efficient, and fits the immediate impression that Rey had of her. While Leia Organa had a powerful, magnetic personality, she also had a reputation for being fair and just, as well as an incredibly hard worker.

Leia sits behind a desk filled with papers when her assistant leads Rey inside, but quickly gets up to shake her hand with a warm smile and an admonishment to call her by her first name — “We don’t stand on titles or hierarchy here,” she says, gesturing around the office — before joining Rey in the seats meant for visitors to her office. It immediately sets Rey at ease.

“Poe told me a little about your situation, and to be frank, Unkar Plutt has been on our radar for a while. We’ve just been unable to dig up much if any concrete evidence on him. So, tell me about your situation, Rey.”

Rey’s unsure why they already know about Unkar or what they could possibly need evidence for. Leia Organa worked in criminal law; this was just a contract issue, right?

The story spills from her and Leia listens attentively all the while.

At the end, Leia leans forward, elbows resting on her knees. “What you’ve just told me matches up to what we’ve heard about him.”

“What have you heard about him?”

Leia, her face grave, responds, “What you just described is essentially human trafficking.”

Her mind had been racing, wondering how Leia would know about Unkar. Now it comes to a grinding halt as she processes what Leia just said. “I thought human trafficking was about sex?”

“In many cases it is. In some, like with Unkar, it’s people coercing others into performing labor for them. There are many different ways it could happen, whether it be through force or coercion or some fraud. Here, the contract is . . . well, it’s junk, and he’s forcing you to work to pay off a debt. You said most of the money you earn goes to pay off your debt, but your debt never gets any smaller, right?” At Rey’s confirmation, Leia nods. “It’s debt bondage. And from what we’ve heard, it seems to be a common tactic of Unkar Plutt’s.”

Puzzle pieces are falling together in Rey’s head. Suddenly everything is making much more sense.

Everything is making _too_ much sense and now she wants vengeance. “So, what do we do?”

At Rey’s words and seeming readiness to battle, Leia reaches over and squeezes her forearm. “We bring him to justice.”

Leia stands up and walks back to her desk and picks up the phone, asking the person on the other end of the line, “Could you send Han and Chewie up? Great, thank you.”

She turns back to Rey. “Han and Chewie are two of our investigators,” she says, before grinning wryly. “Fair warning, Han is my husband, but he’s practically married to Chewie, too. Lifelong friends those two, and no, I have no idea where Chewie got his nickname from. And Chewie’s big, but don’t let that fool you. He may seem like he would rip a guy’s arms out — and to be fair, he might want to do that to Unkar, he hates traffickers especially — but he’s got a heart of gold. They both do.”

When the two men arrive, she’s proud that her jaw didn’t drop straight open in shock. Leia wasn’t kidding about the size of Chewie, the man easily approaching, if not exceeding, seven feet tall. But his smile is warm and his manner is gentle as he settles on the couch beside Han for the conversation.

Han seems to hide his warm nature a little better than Chewie, but she sees the fond look exchanged between him and Leia. Rey easily pegs him as just another softie.

It’s easy enough to tell them her story, this time with Leia taking notes as Han and Chewie occasionally ask her questions. The interruptions don’t bother her though. It’s easy enough to see where they might take their investigation and she’s curious to see the process that leads them there, especially if it means bringing Unkar to justice.

Chewie mumbles something to Han which she can’t quite make out. He doesn’t have the best enunciation, but Leia was right about the interplay between the two. They are clearly close, and Han easily translates Chewie’s comment into a question for Rey.

“You said you have a copy of the ‘contract’?” Han asks, the air quotes he puts around the word clearly indicating what he thinks of Unkar’s methods.

Leia hands him the copy Rey had given her. “She does.”

“We haven’t been able to secure a copy before,” Han says, already thumbing through it. “This is a huge help.”

Leia nods. “It’s not often the trafficker makes it so blatant, but either Unkar doesn’t give the contract to them in the first place or people end up losing their copy.”

Rey grins ruefully. “It’s not easy to keep track of paperwork when you’re just trying to survive.”

Leia reaches out to place a comforting hand on Rey’s shoulder as Han and Chewie continue to ask her questions.

It’s nice to know that someone has her back.

Especially someone like Leia Organa.

It gives her hope.

***

Just a little more than a week after she meets with Leia for the first time, Rey sits on the floor as BB wiggles and squirms in front of her begging for belly rubs. She’s more than happy to provide them, the soft fur beneath her hands a delightful distraction from her day.

“So how long do you think the investigation will take?” Poe asks her, sitting on the edge of the coffee table as he puts two steaming mugs of tea down beside him. She’s been there almost an hour now and this is the first time they’ve talked about the ongoing criminal case against Unkar. It’s not that she wants to avoid the topic, exactly. It’s just that it’s filled up so much of her mind and life recently. And now Poe and BB have given her a chance to escape, a respite from her worries.

Plus, they had talked about the work of Annie Leibovitz for _ages_ it felt like, and it was pure bliss. Finn and Rose were kind enough to listen to her when she goes off on one of her tangents about her portraits, but she hasn’t had someone to just purely geek out with since she had lived with Obi.

Apparently, Shara and Kes had been huge fans too. It was nice learning more about them, Poe always so open with her about his family, even with the parts that were painful. It’s a world of difference from the way he approaches interviews, always seeming a little reclusive during those.

“I’m not entirely certain,” she replies, grinning at the whimper BB makes when she removes one of her hands from his belly to grab her tea. “But Leia made it sound like it could go pretty quickly now that they’ve got the contract. They just need to finalize some interviews and whatever else.”

She laughs as BB climbs into her lap and nuzzles at her cheek, handing her mug to Poe so she doesn’t end up accidentally spilling it all over the floor or herself.

He sets the mug down beside him again and leans forward, his arms resting on his knees, concern apparent in every line of his face. “And are you okay?”

She studies him for a long moment before nodding. “I will be.” And she’s sure of that. Despite the constant, roiling anxiety that seems to have made itself at home in her gut recently, she knows that she’s a survivor. This won’t be the thing that brings her down.

She’s still processing it all, though. She had talked to Rose and Finn when she got back from Leia’s office in the late evening more than a week ago now. Rose had whimpered, her eyes tearing up as her hand came up to cover her mouth, while Finn had reached out to take her hand in his, when she told them about the criminal case against Unkar Plutt. She knows that, if things go according to plan, Unkar will soon be arrested and she’ll likely have to testify at his trial.

In a way, Luke telling her that he’d be in touch later after he reviewed her portfolio was a stroke of luck. She has no idea what she could tell him right now, not with all the uncertainty surrounding the Unkar situation. Although Leia had told her she didn’t need to keep the investigation completely quiet, she did ask for a low profile. At least she had a little extra time to process this all before having to decide about an apprenticeship if Luke did indeed offer it to her.

Poe moves from his perch on the coffee table to sit down on the floor next to her and scratches under BB’s chin for a moment until the corgi gets distracted by the chirping of a bird outside and runs out of the room to look out into the backyard.

“I think you’re incredibly brave,” he says, his voice so soft that it almost doesn’t register at first.

“Me?” She has to laugh. She’s not brave. She’s just incredibly good at putting one foot in front of the other.

“Yes, you.” His voice is still as soft as before and he reaches for her hand. He holds it between both of his, staring down at their joined hands as he talks. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. Everything I’ve learned about you, everything you’ve told me, everything I’ve seen . . . no matter what life has thrown at you, you just keep getting up and moving forward. It’s amazing.” He pauses and swallows hard. “You’re amazing.”

She stares at him, stunned. He finally glances up from their hands and she sees the redness on his cheeks, and he smiles at her self-consciously when he sees her staring at him.

“You think so?” Her voice is at once shy and wondering.

His hands remain around hers and the strength of his grip is strong and reassuring. “I know so.”

The moment stretches on between them, neither of them moving as they continue to look in each other’s eyes. Despite the now ever present anxiety, she feels the steady beat of her heart pick up its pace as warmth unspools through her and she can’t resist leaning forward until her lips brush his, her hand slowly running up his chest and shoulder until she’s cradling the back of his neck, his soft hair brushing against her fingers.

It’s slow and sweet, and as he brings his arms around her and pulls her to him, she thinks she’s never felt so safe and warm and . . . and cared for.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter: 
> 
> Smut. If you want to avoid the explicit scene, skip the section starting from "She dips a finger into her bowl, scooping up a dab of chocolate and smearing it on his lips before leaning in to clean him up" and then pick up with "He nuzzles his nose along her collarbone, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, and then she hears him laugh."
> 
> Also, Rey really struggles with stress and anxiety in this chapter, so just a heads up on that front.

Rey sits with her legs curled underneath her and a blanket around her shoulders as she holds a bowl of cereal in her hands. Rose sits next to her on the couch, holding her own bowl of cereal.

“Hurry up, or the show’s going to start back up without you!” Rose calls out to Finn, who’s currently in the kitchen.

Finn walks back into the living rooom, carrying two mugs of coffee in his hands. “It’s a DVD, your threat doesn’t really work.”

“I could’ve unpaused it,” Rose grins, unrepentant.

“I could have forgotten your coffee in the kitchen,” Finn teases back.

Rose gasps in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!” She unfurls her legs just long enough to stretch out and claim one of the coffee cups for herself, as if she was worried that Finn might actually make good on his threat.

Rey’s seen an uncaffeinated Rose. They both have. Both of them know better than to withhold Rose’s coffee for any reason.

Finn, who prefers to sprawl out, settles back down on the floor and plumps up his pillow once more. He places it behind his back and stretches out his legs as he relaxes against the couch with a sigh.

Rose finally unpauses the episode of the Addams Family they’d been watching, the old TV show from the 1960’s. When Finn had mentioned he had never seen the show before, Rose had gasped and pulled out her collection of DVDs, a result of her and Paige’s obsession with the show as kids.

The three of them decided to watch the episodes on Saturday mornings. Rey had never really gotten to enjoy the prospect of Saturday morning cartoons growing up. She was in a group home for most of her childhood and there was too much going on to watch cartoons, and by the time Ben Kenobi had taken her in, cartoons weren’t something that had even really crossed her mind.

But then Rose had brought up the idea of Saturday morning episodes, and they all eagerly agreed. Rose would grab the cereal and pull out her favorite coffee mug while handing Rey the cup dotted in sunflowers that she would use for her tea, before they all headed into the living room and piled together on the couch (or in Finn’s case on the floor) and buried themselves in blankets. 

This had turned into a new tradition, at least when the three of them were all in town. And Rey tried not to think too closely about just how many Saturdays it had been now, guilt-ridden from their unending generosity, but every time she had been ready to go, something had come up. First there was Unkar not letting her leave her job, then the prospect of the criminal case against him and Finn’s and Rose’s concern for her safety if Unkar got wind of that, and then her wondering if there would be a problem in finding a job after, once she’s finally free (and she believes that, wholly and completely, she’ll get out from under Unkar’s thumb, and she’ll bring him down too, come hell or high water.)

Plus, it probably didn’t help that, while she could technically afford her own place now, it wouldn’t have exactly been in the safest of neighborhoods.

So, Finn and Rose had told her it was best that she stay with them for a while longer. And she had reluctantly agreed, even as she was impossibly happy at getting to spend so much time with her friends recently.

But for the moment, she accepted the box of Lucky Charms from Finn, pouring more into her bowl before scooping up some marshmallows and munching into them happily.

Then her phone alerts her to an incoming email, and she gives it the side-eye (and she’s pretty sure she saw Rose stick out her tongue at it from the corner of her eye, too) but she still needs to earn whatever money she can. If there’s a potential celeb sighting, so much of which occurs with scant notice, she might have to take it.

But then she sees it’s an email from Luke Skywalker and her eyes widen in surprise. She scans the email quickly, and then reads it a second time, chewing her lip all the while.

“What is it?” Rose asks, concerned.

“It’s from Skywalker. He apologizes that he hasn’t had time to follow up recently, but he’s been in Europe working on a photo series. But he wants to see more of my work. Specifically, he wants to see me do a portrait series with a single subject,” and here’s where her heart leaps in excitement, “and he wants me to use his studio so he can see what I can do with the right tools.” She grins wryly at the next line in the email. “And how quickly I can learn to use them.”

“Luke Skywalker is letting you use his studio?” Finn breathes. He seems almost as excited as her.

“So it seems,” she says, a pleased smile on her face. She’s all aflutter with excitement, even as she desperately tries to recall all the makes and models of his various equipment, tries to catalogue everything she’s seen there. She’s going to have to study up before she goes to make sure she can make the best use of whatever she finds there. And what she doesn’t learn beforehand, well . . . she can only assume that Luke is testing her innovation and ingenuity. Sometimes you don’t have the best tools on hand, and you have to make do with whatever you’ve got to get the perfect shot.

And sometimes you end up knee-deep in a ditch full of mud for that shot, anyway.

She reads through the email again. “I have to coordinate with his assistant to set up a time to use the studio, but I need to get this done in the next three weeks, before he gets back.” She starts mentally creating a to-do list — well, a second to-do list really. There’s the one that gets her through her day-to-day life, but this project is a whole other beast unto itself.

Rose’s voice breaks through her thoughts. “So, who’s the subject?” A beat later, and Rose asks teasingly, “Is it Poe? Are you going to ask Poe?”

The thought had initially crossed her mind, but he’s out of town doing reshoots on his most recent film, and honestly, she had a much better idea anyway, someone else whose eyes tell a thousand tales, whose face and story would make for a fascinating photoshoot.

“Actually,” she says, a smile pulling at her lips as her vision for the shoot starts to take shape inside her mind, “do you have some free time coming up, Finn?”

***

First, she’s hit with a face full of cold air. Then she’s met with the sight of multiple cartons of ice cream in all sizes and flavors.

An hour ago, she had been out working a job when Poe had texted to say hello and to let her know he was back in town. She had replied, instantaneously — cause she’s in way too deep, she knows this now, she thinks wryly — and in a few messages, she had told him all about the final test offered by Luke Skywalker.

He had immediately invited her over to celebrate. When she had replied it was too soon to celebrate, he then offered pre-celebratory ice cream to “help get her energy levels up for the big event.” (And she couldn’t help where her mind went when she got that message, what she needed to get her energy levels up for, the different ways it could be construed.)

But now she’s grabbing a couple of containers from the freezer (and what sane person has this many different types of ice cream, she thinks to herself, before remembering Poe’s massive sweet tooth and penchant to horde junk food of all types.)

“So what did Finn say when you asked him to model for you?” Poe asks, as he moves past her to gather items from the fridge.

“He just jumped up and ran out the door yelling something about how he needed to go shopping.”

Poe laughs, looking around the fridge door at her. “And then?”

“Four hours later he came back with the snazziest purple suit I have ever seen. You should have seen it. It’s really something.”

“Will I get to see it?”

Rey cocks her head in question.

Poe sets three different bottles of syrup on the counter next to her. “After you do the photoshoot, can I see the photos?”

“You want to see my photos?”

Poe looks at her perplexed. “Of course I do. You’re amazingly talented. I would love to see more of your work.”

She blinks at him, surprised, and then nods. “Sure.”

Poe smiles widely at her, smiles like she had just done something absolutely clever, something brilliant.

She has no idea what to do in the face of that smile, and just turns away to grab a few bowls from his cabinet. She’s still so unused to the idea that someone other than her old guardian and Finn and Rose were interested in her photographs. And while she learned long ago that hope can be a fragile thing, she’s starting to believe that she might actually be good at this.

With the reminder of what’s she facing, she’s filled with an absolute whirlwind of emotions. She has been for a while now, since she got the email from Skywalker, since she met with Leia, since she tried to leave Unkar’s employ, since that rainy day she had met Poe while sitting on the bench outside the café.

She decides to put aside her stress and her fear and the sheer nerves of what’s facing her in the upcoming weeks to the side, and focus on what’s before her now.

Or at least she tries to.

She digs the scoop into the ice cream, filling her bowl with vanilla and chocolate before grabbing for some syrup. She’s not really paying attention, listening to Poe hum along with the music playing from his sound system, grabbing other toppings at random.

“Okay, you’ve got to try this.” Poe’s voice interrupts her effort to dig more cherries out of the jar (and so maybe she already has five of them on top of her ice cream, _but she just really likes them, okay?_) and she faces him to see his face contorted in pleasure, a smudge of chocolate sauce at the corner of his mouth, and him holding out his spoon, dripping with ice cream and syrup and sprinkles.

It’s reflex that has her taking the bite, the brief pleasure of the sweet ice cream and rich chocolate and delightful crunch of the sprinkles causing her eyes to close.

She opens them, darts her tongue out to lick up a drop of ice cream on her bottom lip, sees his eyes darken as he follows the movement.

Then he’s pressing his lips to hers, delving inside to chase the taste that lingers on her tongue.

Her eyes are slow to open after the intensity of his kiss, and he’s got the sort of smile on his face that indicates he knows exactly what he’s done.

Her eyes fall back to his lips. She notices the smudge of chocolate sauce has disappeared from the corner of his lips, probably taken care of during their previous kiss.

_No matter_.

She dips a finger into her bowl, scooping up a dab of chocolate and smearing it on his lips before leaning in to clean him up.

With a moan, he’s gathering her in his arms and pressing her back to the counter, eagerly returning her kiss.

He hoists her up on to the counter, fingers digging deliciously into her thighs as he pulls her hips forward to meet his, his mouth continuing to move with her own, and he’s always so good at this, so good at chasing her fears and anxieties away as he makes nothing but desire sing through her blood.

She tips her head back, hears him mutter sweet words into her skin as his mouth works along the line of her throat. Then he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath her ear, and she gasps, her hips rocking into his.

Her hands scrabble for the button of his jeans, getting it open and pushing them down even as he works on hers, their hands bumping into each other. Within moments though, he’s kissing her as he slips inside, and she moans deep in her throat as he fills her so completely.

It’s frenetic, the way they grab at each other, trying to pull each other closer even as their hips move together, her hands holding on to the counter, to his shoulders and back, as he brings her ever increasing pleasure. She feels the hot tingle run up her spine and then she’s clutching him close as she buries her face into the space between his neck and shoulder, biting down as she fights back her scream.

He follows her over the cliff, moaning out her name as he climaxes. They hold on to each other as they come down, her legs still wrapped around his waist, one of his hands in her hair as the other strokes down her spine.

He nuzzles his nose along her collarbone, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, and then she hears him laugh.

“Hmm?” she asks, almost sleepily, as the adrenaline begins to fade away.

“The ice cream,” he says, and she follows the direction his eyes are looking to see that their bowls are now a soupy mess, sprinkles and cherries floating in the melted ice cream.

She laughs too, but there’s an edge to it that she can’t quite ignore. Now that the sex is over, she’s less distracted, and she feels the uncomfortable tickle of anxiety start creeping its way back in, taking up space in her stomach and throat.

He helps her get redressed properly, smoothing down her hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead before fixing his own clothes, and then he walks to the freezer to grab the ice cream once again to make new bowls. He’s chattering away a mile a minute now, happy and relaxed, and she tries to pay attention, but she keeps getting distracted by her ideas for the photoshoot and her worries that the situation with Unkar might never be resolved and all this work would be for nothing.

Before she knows it, they’re sitting in his living room with their ice cream while BB rolls around on the floor, munching away at a treat Poe gave him to enjoy while they finish eating.

Poe’s telling her about his trip to New York. The reshoots were quick and uneventful, so his manager scheduled more than a few interviews and photoshoots to fill in the time.

He’s sitting on the floor next to the corgi as he says, “And my little buddy is gonna be famous soon, too.” He grins up at her, tilting his head back to look at her where she lounges on the couch. “The photographer thought it’d be fun to have BB in the photos too. He tried to tell me it was to show people ‘a more personal side’ of me,” he says, fingers making air quotes as if to indicate what he really thought about the photographer’s reasoning, “but I know his real reason. No one can resist this little guy. No one wants to see my face when they can see his.” He affectionally rubs BB’s belly as the chubby corgi rolls over onto his back for Poe.

Rey gives him a wan smile, even though he can’t really see it from this angle. Hearing Poe talk about the photoshoot, the photographer’s easy give and take with his subject (and she knows Poe is a phenomenal subject to work with, has seen him in action, how effortlessly he conveys multitudes to the camera), how well the photographer had shifted from one shot to the next, well — well, her mind keeps spinning with the constant reminder that her shoot with Finn is just days away.

It’s not that she’s nervous about the photoshoot . . .

Except that now she’s outright terrified. She gets the feeling from her last discussion with Leia that they might be about to move forward with prosecuting Unkar. Which means that she might be about to be free from his control. Which might mean that she’ll be free to get her own place, no longer subject to his control over her take-home pay, a place of her own where it’s her name on the lease and where she’s no longer subject to the whims of someone wishing to control her.

And which means that she might be able to work for Luke. If he asks. If he makes her an offer. If she can pull together a series of photographs of Finn, working in a studio that she’s unfamiliar with save for one long afternoon, working with equipment she’s pretty much only ever read about. If she can pull together a shoot that impresses _the Luke Skywalker_, impresses him enough that he agrees to hire her, _her, the scavenger_, and take her under his wing and call her his apprentice.

The buzzing of her phone startles her out of her rapidly spiraling thoughts.

At least until she looks at the screen and sees the name that pops up. Leia has sent her a message.

She had given Han and Chewie access to her emails, where she still had several saved messages from Unkar from the early days, when she had first been hired to work for him.

_Do you think you can come in and walk us through some of your emails so we can get a better idea of the timeline for everything?_

She responds with a yes, and they set up a time for her to come in the next morning. Between her copy of Unkar’s “contract” and her saved emails from him, not to mention the events that led to her walking into Leia Organa’s office, Leia has made it clear that Rey is at the absolute center of this case.

She only hopes that she has enough evidence, that she’s persuasive enough, to help put Unkar away. Unkar’s hurt too many people to keep walking around as a free man.

She’s just about to drop her phone back into her bag when she feels it vibrate again, this time with an incoming call.

_Well, speak of the devil_, she thinks, holding up a finger to Poe as he looks at her curiously when she moves to stand.

She wonders what he sees on her face, as his face falls in concern as he takes her in before she steps out of the room.

She feels the anger swell up in her, so she takes a few deep, steadying breaths before she answers. “Yes, Unkar?”

Unkar’s deep, poisonous voice oozes through the line. “Been reviewing my ledger,” he begins with no preamble. “You’re going to miss this week’s quota.”

She’s been busy so she knows she hasn’t submitted quite as many photos as she has in the past, but she figured with the big photo she got a few days ago, that she more than likely met her quota.

“What do you mean? What about those photos I submitted Wednesday?”

“Didn’t sell well. Her fame is on the decline, probably. She’s getting too old for this business, you know.”

Rey seethes. In addition to the disrespect he shows to the subjects of the photos, she also knows he’s outright lying.

Unkar continues before she can say anything else. “You need to bring me more. Maybe reach out to your contacts and see if you can find Poe Dameron. Those always sell well.”

“It’s not that easy,” she begins, before he interrupts.

“I don’t care if it’s easy. I only care about results.”

She wants to yell at him. No, she wants to rip his throat out with her bare teeth, she’s so angry, she wants to tell him he’ll be sorry but she can’t because she can’t let him know about the investigation, she promised Leia she’d be careful, there’s so many people counting on her, and she just wants to be free —

She bites her tongue.

“You better get me something soon,” he says, and then she hears nothing but silence as the line goes dead.

She rests her back against the wall as she tries to catch her breath and push down her anger. Another minute, then two, passes before she can straighten up and head back to the living room.

Despite the phone call that just ended, the shock of what she sees as she enters the living room causes her to burst out laughing. Poe dances around the living room, BB in his arms, as an upbeat song plays from the speakers.

Poe grins and sets BB down. While BB goes to sprawl happily on his bed in the corner of the room, Poe dances over to her, and holds his palm up.

_What the hell_, she thinks, and places her hand in his, letting Poe pull her into his arms. He twirls them around the room as he sings along to the music, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders as she holds on tight.

When the song comes to an end, she remains in his arms.

As the moment stretches out and unfurls between them, his eyes grow soft, his lips slowly turning upwards, a look of fondness and wonder playing sweetly on his face.

She’s seen a variety of smiles, of looks, on Poe Dameron’s face. She’s not sure she’s ever seen this particular expression though, and she can’t resist asking, “What is it?”

He brings her hand, the one he had been holding, to his lips, pressing the softest of kisses to it before holding it close to his chest. His other hand strokes up her back before cradling her cheek.

She thinks he’s acting a little odd, that he must be tired and jetlagged from his trip, and just gives him a smile that’s probably laced with more than a little confusion.

“I love you,” he says. “It’s just — I love you so much.”

She blinks, thinking she misheard him, an odd roaring sound building up in her ears.

An odd mixture of anxiety and fear and delight and pleasure beats in her chest, and the moment stretches once more as he continues to look at her, that warmth and fondness now touched with just a tinge of worry, it’s too much, just _too, too much_. The buildup of it all, everything that’s built up over these last few days, months, _years_, everything that’s she’s facing in the next few days, months, _maybe even years_, kicks her firmly over the edge and she does the only thing she can think of.

She runs.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: Rey continues to struggle with stress and anxiety, particularly in the first half of this chapter.

She checks the lights for what must be the tenth time. She bites her lip and adjusts them a fraction more, before second guessing herself and putting them back the way they were originally.

Or at least the way they had been on the first, fourth, seventh, and ninth times.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mutters, just loud enough for the other person in the room to hear. “One more minute and I’ll be ready.”

“No rush, peanut, but you know everything is perfect already, right?”

She looks over her shoulder and gives Finn the most disbelieving look she can muster.

He just gazes back, his face soft and warm. In any other circumstance, she’d be reassured, trusting in him and his judgment completely, but she can’t get past the knot of anxiety sitting heavy in her stomach.

It’s been there for the better part of a week now.

It’s been there ever since the moment she had run out of Poe’s house, leaving him and his declaration of love and his forlorn look behind.

She’s not exactly sure why she had done that. She still can’t explain it to herself. All she knows is that he sent an email to her later that evening, hours after she had run.

_I’m sorry_, it had begun.

_I know you have a lot going on and I had sprung this on you suddenly. I had a much better plan in my head, but my mouth sped right past my brain once again. But I love you. I am in love with you and have been for a while now. And I thought it had been obvious, but then again, there’s a reason that I’ve spent my career in a field where other write the story and the words that I say. They know how to say I love you. They know how to say I care for you, I adore you, I want to be with you. _

_And I know this is terrible timing, that you have a million other things going on in your life, a million more important things to deal with than this. And I know you need time. So, I just wanted to write you to say that I’ll wait for you, if that’s what you want, if that’s what you need. I’ll wait as long as you need me to, but hopefully one day you’ll let me tell you just how amazing you are, that you’ll let me list all the wonderful things about you, and tell you all the reasons I love you. _

_Cause I do, Rey Kenobi. I love you._

She thinks she’s read it a million times by now. But she can’t bring herself to respond. She doesn’t know what to say to him. She doesn’t even know how to feel about it herself.

She sighs and gives Finn a nod. “You’re right. Or at least we should get this show on the road. You ready?”

Finn’s face lights up and he wiggles happily on his stool, as if he can’t quite contain his excitement. She can’t resist grinning in the face of his absolute delight.

“How do you want me first?” he asks, his face quickly morphing from happiness, to a sad pout, to his best attempt at a smolder.

Rey smiles as she leans over to peer through her camera, already making a note to capture that smolder and give a print to Rose.

Rose would owe her _big time_.

“Feel free to do whatever comes to mind. Just have fun with this.”

Finn takes her directive seriously, and she shoots him through a variety of poses. He’s dressed simply for their first round of photos, in black pants and a white button-up, and the camera absolutely loves him, as she knew it would.

But there’s something missing, and it’s the whole reason she had asked him to do this. Finn has an amazingly expressive face, the most soulful eyes. He’s unable to hide whatever he’s feeling at any given moment.

Except right now he’s just going through the motions. A tilt of his lips, a quirk of his brow —

But the only thing she sees behind his eyes is fear and anxiety.

She can fix that.

She hopes.

She’s so used to taking candid pictures that she’s never really had to get to know her subjects or give them directions. But she starts talking to Finn, anything and everything she could think of, to get him out of his head and into the moment. The emotions start flowing more freely as he opens himself up to her and her camera until the fear and anxiety subside and it’s nothing but Finn and the multitudes he contains.

This is why she chose him for this project. The only person she knew who would possibly be better was Poe, who not only had a lot more experience on that side of the camera, but who was also a man with a seeming inability to hide his emotions and an endless depth.

The thought of him causes something to stick in her throat, and she clears it before telling Finn it’s time for an outfit change.

He perks up and in minutes he’s back wearing tight jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket, and it only serves as another reminder of what she ran from.

Finn plays on his phone as she adjusts the set-up and fiddles with her camera. It takes her a few minutes to get everything adjusted the way she likes, that she thinks will fit with this next round of photos, when she looks up and sees it.

She snaps a few pictures while Finn is distracted, the look on his face too potent, too powerful to miss out on.

He looks up in surprise, a wry smile on his face as he notices her at the camera.

That look is familiar, even if she can’t quite place it, so she can’t help but ask, “What were you looking at?”

“It’s a text from Rose. Why? You wanna say hi?”

She shakes her head. “No. No, it was — it was just the look on your face. I should’ve known it was Rose.”

“Why’s that?”

“You looked happy. Content. Fond,” she continues, still struggling with the familiarity of it all. It’s not that she hasn’t seen that look on Finn’s or Rose’s face before when they were talking to each other. She should’ve known the second she saw Finn’s expression that it was his girlfriend on the other side of the phone. But there was something else, something playing just at the edge of her memory.

Finn chuckles. “You mean it looks like I’m in love,” he says, smiling down at his phone once more, as if he could look through it to Rose herself. After a long moment, he finally looks back towards Rey, and —

She freezes.

Suddenly she knows why that look was so familiar. She remembers. Months ago, she had stood outside an art gallery taking photos of Poe as the sunlight gave him an almost otherworldly glow.

Months ago, her friends had been looking on some gossip site at those photos she had taken, when Rose had handed her the laptop and told her to look at the fifth picture, absolutely certain that Poe had feelings for her.

She didn’t see it then. Now she realizes why Rose had. Finn has been giving Rose that look every day since they had first met, and Rose recognized it on Poe’s face.

She sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She meets Finn’s concerned gaze, his expression only deepening as she stares back at him in shock.

“You alright, peanut?”

She starts to nod, then shakes her head before stilling completely. She doesn’t know if she’s alright. Right now, the only thing she does know is, “Poe told me he loves me.”

Finn, already halfway to standing, promptly stills, his brow furrowing. “And is that — are we not happy about that?”

“I don’t know.”

Finn nods and approaches, before stopping a few feet away. Far enough to let her breathe. Close enough that she can step forward and close the gap.

She blinks rapidly to hold back the tears. He always knows when to give her space, and right now she needs it. She needs space to think, to figure things out. She needs space, but she’s glad her best friend is here with her.

“What did you say to him?”

She shakes her head ruefully. “Nothing. I ran.”

“Oh, peanut,” he says, voice soft, but there’s no judgment there.

“And I don’t even know why,” she says, voice thick with emotion. It’s the question that’s been plaguing her for days now. “He said the words and it was all too much, so unexpected, and I just ran.” She scrubs her hands over her face, willing her sudden weariness to subside. “It was just all so sudden.”

Finn dips his head, just enough to keep looking at her face, a soft yet knowing look in his eyes. “Was it though?”

“Was what though?”

“Was it really sudden? Was it really unexpected?”

It’s like separate puzzle pieces are finally slotting together and only now can she see the whole. The picture, _that _picture, _that look_, so long ago. So many moments they’ve shared since. “No,” she says. “I guess not.”

“So when he told you . . .”

“I thought how could this be happening? There’s just been so much . . . so much _shit_ in my life. There was the group home and then Ben and then losing Ben. And then there was that piece of shit son of a bitch I dated who stole everything from me, then there was Unkar. There was just so much shit and now. . . ” and she throws her hands up in the air as she gasps for breath. “Now, things can still go belly up, but now Unkar’s being investigated by the police and the district attorney, and for the first time in my life I’ve got actual savings in my bank. I could get my own apartment if I want, I’m in _Luke-freaking-Skywalker’s_ studio doing a photoshoot and there’s a chance he might offer me a job, and . . . and . . .”

And she swipes at the tears leaking from her eyes. She hadn’t even known she had started crying, but now they’re flowing in earnest. “And now Poe told me he loves me. So, I ran. Things like that don’t happen to me. And I don’t know what to do with any of this.”

“First, things like that can and will happen for you. Amazing and wonderful things will happen for you, because you’re amazing and wonderful. You’re the absolute best person I’ve ever met, and you deserve everything wonderful that happens to you. Two, he loves you, peanut. I know it. Rose knows it. Granted, he sucks at actually, you know, talking about his feelings, instead of just showing them, but . . .” Finn lifts his hands up, offering them to her if she wants them, and she takes them. He gives her hands a gentle squeeze. “Do you know it?”

She thinks for a long moment. There was that look, so undeniable. He may not have told her until recently that he loved her, but that look — she doesn’t think he could fake that look.

She thinks of the texts they shared at the beginning, the way he sweetly complimented her photography skills. The telephone conversations late at night when he was on the other side of the country, when he was probably half-asleep from a combination of the time of day and the jet-lag, when it was still hours earlier for Rey on the west coast, but he wanted to check in or simply say “hello” and she drifted off to sleep with his voice still echoing in her ear. There was the way they could talk for hours on end about their favorite movies, the way he would let her hound the corgi’s attention when she was feeling down (although he liked to playfully grouse that she had taken over his position as BB’s favorite person, and just stuck his tongue out at her when she told him Kes had already done that), the occasions where he made her pancakes or kept her well-fed with his stocks of junk food.

He made her smile and laugh, but even more so, there was the way he supported her every step of the way in her effort to be free of Unkar. Not just the “candid” photos that he helped plan as a way to help her earn some money, but he had her back, in the way he supported her and encouraged her when she lost faith in herself, in her ability to be free.

Every step of the way, he had been an absolute light in the darkness.

He’s told her a million different ways that he loves her. She just couldn’t see it then.

But she can now.

“Yes.” She meets Finn’s eyes through her tears, but the word has an undeniable strength behind it. She knows it. Now she knows it.

He smiles softly at her. “And what about you?”

She blinks, her lips tilting upwards in the barest hint of a smile at the thought of Poe, despite the pain that’s been coursing through her for a week now. “I love him. You know I do,” she says, and the crinkle at the corners of Finn’s eyes show that he’s remembering that moment long ago when she had all but admitted that she loved him.

“I know, peanut. I know.” His thumbs rub at her knuckles, the warmth of it further easing her misery.

She stares at some place over Finn’s shoulder as a question burns at her mind. “But is that even enough? There’s so much that can go wrong.”

He squeezes her hands again. When her eyes meet his, he asks, “Do you trust him?”

She nods before she even has time to think it through, but she realizes that she knows that completely. Knows it as surely as she knows her own name, surely as she knows Finn and Rose, surely as she knows she loves him. “I do.”

“Maybe it’s time to trust in that.”

“But what if I don’t trust myself?” she asks, voice uncharacteristically meek as she finally voices the fear that’s been festering in her gut. “Like I said, this doesn’t happen to me. I don’t even know what to do with this. What if I get it all wrong? What if it all goes wrong?”

Finn’s eyes are gentle. “Then maybe it’s a leap of faith. But I believe in you. Rose believes in you. Now you just need to believe in yourself. Talk to him. Tell him that you’re scared. And believe me, it’s okay to be scared, Lord knows I was with Rose. But I trusted her, trusted that she wouldn’t push me, that we could work through things together. Trust that you both love each other,” and then his smile turns almost teasing, “even if you’re both shit at admitting that.”

She huffs out a laugh. “Communication has never been my strong suit.”

“Nor his, it sounds like,” Finn says, even as he continues to steadily hold her gaze. “But I think you two could be good for each other. You just need to talk with each other. Communicate.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Like I said, it’s just a leap of faith. You’re Rey. You can do anything.”

His voice is strong, sure, completely certain.

All she can do now is slip into his arms and hug him, his embrace as strong and unshakeable as the faith he’s shown in her.

***

That evening, she tossed and turned on the couch, her mind racing, wishing for sleep as the minutes ticked by.

She doesn’t know exactly when she had fallen asleep, but sometime much too early in the morning, she awoke as her phone buzzed, alerting her to an incoming text message. For one heady moment she hoped it was from Poe (only remembering too late that there was an email from him sitting in her inbox that she hasn’t been able bring herself to respond to yet), but the name that pops up on her phone is a surprise.

It’s from Leia Organa. _Turn on your TV. Channel six news._

She fumbles for the remote sitting on the coffee table, still groggy enough that she doesn’t really question the message, just hits the power button and waits for the TV to flare to life.

Then she’s fully awake, watching as Unkar Plutt gets marched out of his home in a pre-dawn raid. She sees Chewie behind him, a burly hand resting just above Unkar’s handcuffs, with a satisfied, if still grim, look on his face. The look is mirrored on Han’s who walks just off to the side, keeping the media away from the immediate scene.

She texts back, disbelieving,_ Is this for real? This is really happening?_

_Yes, and it’s all because of you. We all owe you a great deal of thanks._

Within a few hours, she’s a free woman, walking out of a meeting held at the district attorney’s office. Now that Leia could go public, she had called for as many of Unkar’s former employees as possible to come to the office, to inform them what was really going on, to get as many statements as she could to be used in building the case against him. Trial was still far off, though Leia was hopeful for a plea deal that would put him away for a long time while sparing the victims from the public and potentially traumatizing ordeal of a trial.

Rey thought she would like confronting Unkar at a trial, telling the world just what he put people through in the name of a quick buck, of the horrible misdeeds he committed for sheer notoriety.

But she thinks she might be one of the few. She looks around at her old co-workers, sees the weariness and fear and hurt and anger written all over their faces, see tears on more than a few, knows that while they might be free too, they’re also facing the same fear of the unknown that she’s had longer to deal with considering she’s been the one working with the office the longest.

But for now she takes a good long look at Unkar’s mugshot, resolving never to allow someone to take advantage of others if she can help it, and accepts the warm hugs from Chewie and Leia and the gruff thanks from Han.

She pauses on the front steps of the district attorney’s office, fingers fumbling over the scrap of paper with the phone number for the victim’s services coordinator that Leia had offered to all of Unkar’s former employees. They could offer psychological services, Leia had told them, and could even help set them up with long-term counseling if that’s what they wanted.

It was something to consider, Rey thought. She thinks — no, she knows — that she will be reaching out to that number.

She tilts her face up, letting the sun warm her skin as she takes a deep breath, filling her lungs as deep as she can.

Then she wanders.

She walks and walks, ambling down the streets, only half paying attention to the people and storefronts she passes. Finally, she comes to a bench and sits, giving her weary legs a break.

She reaches into her pocket for her phone, opening up the file of photographs of Finn she had taken the prior day. They’re raw, still unedited, and she has barely even begun to think through which pictures she wants to submit to Skywalker. But for now, she clicks through one after another.

She comes to the group of photos of Finn in his extravagantly purple suit, the cheesiest, most excited, positively gleeful smile she’s ever seen on anyone illuminating his face. She thinks it’s one of the best photos she’s ever taken, encompassing so much in one little image.

Poe had told her he wanted to see the photos.

She wants to show him.

She wants to show him all the photographs she’d taken, wants to show him all the ones that she will ever take, wants to tell him about Unkar’s mug shot and him being taken into custody and Leia’s hug. She wants to talk to him about her excitement of no longer being beholden to her old paparazzi job, of the possibility that Luke might offer her the apprenticeship, wants to tell him of her worries and fears, her hopes and dreams.

She wants to tell him she’s finally free.

With his words _I love you_, and _wait_, and _please, stay_, reverberating in her head, she wants to tell him that she’s sorry, that she trusts him, that when they had first met, when she had been sitting on a bench not unlike this one, he had given her shelter from the storm. She wants to tell him that she thinks that could be true of the future, that no matter what the world could throw at her, he could be her safe harbor, her sanctuary.

She wants to tell him that she trusts him. She wants to tell him she loves him.

She wants to tell him _everything_.

So this time she runs, but not from him, but towards him, not even batting an eye (well, maybe wincing a little, but just this once, screw her savings account, this is worth it) when she orders a taxi because she needs to get to him as soon as she can.

She has so much to tell him . . .

And that’s how she finds herself outside his gate, her phone in hand, wondering how to tell him she’s here, she wants to see him, could they talk? Because she has so much to tell him, and she hopes, hopes so much, that he’ll listen to her, if only to let her say she’s sorry for running, that she’s sorry for it all.

And then she hears a bark, and sees a familiar face and eager, full-body waggle as BB runs into view, his chubby body practically vibrating with excitement.

She smiles, even if it’s a touch watery, to see someone that’s clearly so excited to see her. She can’t even begin to hope for a similar reaction from BB’s owner.

Then she sees him, and relief floods her veins. And then there’s surprise, as she gets a good look at him, his face tired, eyes rimmed in red, an unusual downward tilt to his lips that’s surrounded in a heavier dusting of stubble than she’s ever seen on him.

She sees the moment he recognizes her, and it’s not excitement on his face, but shock.

There’s something else there too, something she doesn’t quite recognize, and he’s too far from her to really tell anyway, but then he’s walking towards the gate, _towards her_, and she hopes, _oh how she hopes_.

“It’s you,” he says, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining that when he says it, that there’s hope limning his words, tentative though it may be.

Her heart beats faster, and she knows that same hope is reflected in her own voice, her own heart, when she says, “It’s me.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter:
> 
> Sex. If you want to avoid the explicit scene, skip the section starting from "Pancakes can wait" and then pick up with the sentence that starts with "As she comes down, she lies half-sprawled across his chest [. . .]"

Poe rests his hand on the edge of the gate that separates them, and suddenly she feels nervous, worried that she came all this way for nothing. Worried that he’s changed his mind, that he wouldn’t wait, wouldn’t let her explain, that this gate would remain forever closed between them.

“I’m sorry I came all this way without calling first, but I was hoping we could talk,” she says, hurriedly, before he would have a chance to walk away.

But he only steps closer, despite the obstacle between them.

“No, it’s alright, it’s perfectly okay. I’m glad you came,” Poe stutters out hastily, his eyes roving over her face for a long moment before he seems to visibly recollect himself. “Do you, um — would you like to come in?”

She nods, and he enters the code into the box next to the gate and it slides open, BB doing a happy little dance around Rey’s feet as she steps inside. The gate closes behind her, and Poe gestures to the door, inviting Rey to lead the way, even as his eyes never leave her.

“BB, come,” Poe says, though when Rey glances behind her, she sees the command was redundant, the corgi following at their heels, his tongue lolling out happily as he glances between the two of them.

They walk inside the house, BB trotting past them towards the living room, before he stops and gives them an expectant look over his shoulder. Then he disappears inside.

Poe glances between her and the living room. “Do you want something to drink? Some water or something?”

“Water sounds nice,” and it does, her throat already unbelievably dry.

Poe nods. “Two waters coming up. I’ll be right back if you want to . . .” he trails off, nervous, as he gestures to the living room.

She settles onto the couch, BB jumping up to join her and cuddling into her leg. And true to his word, Poe returns quickly, two glasses of water in his hands. He hands one to her, and she immediately takes a sip.

Poe sets the other one down on the coffee table, wiping his hands on his pants before gesturing to the couch next to her. “Is it alright if I join you?”

“Please,” she responds quickly. There’s something comforting in him being as nervous as she is, that maybe this means that this is as important to him as it is to her.

She takes another sip of water before setting it resolutely on the coffee table next to his glass. It’s now or never. It’s time to take that leap of faith.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” she says, pausing to take a deep breath as her heart has started beating wildly in her chest.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“No, there is. I ran. Instead of staying and talking it out, I ran because . . . I ran because, in that moment, everything became too much. It became too difficult to deal with, so I ran, and then when you reached out, I didn’t respond. I ignored it. And so for all of that, I want to say I’m sorry.”

She’s too nervous to face him directly, but she manages to glance at Poe out of the corner of her eye, and sees that his attention is focused completely on her as she speaks. She takes a deep breath, wringing her hands together, and continues. “I’m not a lucky person. I grew up in a group home until Ben found me. And for a few years, it was good. He was my family. I felt safe with him, and he loved me. And I loved him. But then he passed away, and all I had was my camera, so I came out here and then the whole thing with Unkar happened, and my ex, and — I’m not a lucky person. I don’t get what I want. I never do. And then you told me you loved me, and I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do with that. So, I ran, and I’m sorry.”

Poe drags a hand through his hair, his face heavy with sorrow. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve been more careful instead of . . . instead of just springing it on you. I guess there was a part of me that thought you knew? Thought I was being real obvious? Snap likes to tell me I’ve got a crap poker face. It’s probably true. Karé has taken more than a little of my money during game nights.”

“You might have been obvious,” she laughs, ruefully. “Finn and Rose certainly seem to think so. I’m apparently just terrible at reading the signs.”

“You shouldn’t have had to read the signs though. Not about this. I should have been clearer. I should’ve talked with you, instead of just expecting you to . . . I don’t know, read my mind about what I was hoping this relationship to be, I guess?” His hand that had been playing nervously with his necklace comes up to scrub over his face, making it even more clear to her just how tired he was. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one to lose sleep over this. “There’s a reason they pay me to act out what other people write for me. I like to think I could show my feelings through actions, but that clearly doesn’t always work. But the writers, the people who write the scripts, they’re the ones who know how to communicate. Guess that’s something I need to work on, huh?”

Rey stops rubbing BB’s soft fur, the dozing corgi doing nothing more than letting out a soft sigh as Rey moves her hand to rest it between her and Poe, her palm facing up. She offers him a soft smile, and he returns it as he slips his hand into hers.

Rey takes a moment, lets herself enjoy the feeling of his hand in hers once again, before saying, “I guess that’s something we both need to work on. There’s a part of me that’s terrified, that can’t stop imagining a hundred different ways that this could go wrong. But there’s a bigger part that can see that this could be wonderful, that you’re wonderful, and I think . . . I think that it’s worth the risk. You’re worth the risk and, and—” and she sighs, running her other hand through her messy hair, knowing she’s making it even more of a disaster than it already is, not caring because she’s trying to figure out how to say it, and then, “Damnit. What I’m trying to say is I love you, Poe Dameron.”

His smile lights up the room, the house, all the cold, dark places that she had tried to hide and lock away deep inside her. “I love you too, Rey Kenobi.”

His other hand reaches up, tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear before cradling her jaw, his thumb stroking softly along her cheekbone. The silence stretches between them, but it’s warm and gentle, and she just keeps smiling as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

They spend the rest of the evening on the couch just talking, hands reaching out for each other, and exchanging slow, sweet kisses. When finally it feels like her soul has been laid bare before him, and his before her, her eyes grow drowsy and it’s only then that she notices it has grown dark outside.

“Would you like to stay?” Poe asks, and the way he says it, soft, almost shy, has her smiling despite her tiredness.

“I would love that,” she responds, and Poe smiles back and stands, his hand reaching out to help her up.

BB barely looks up at them from his perch on his bed in the corner of the living room. Poe guides her to his room, the place looking both familiar and new all at once. She had been in it once before, but now it’s like she’s looking at it with new eyes.

This is the room of the man she loves, of the man who loves her.

She takes the pair of sweatpants and old t-shirt he holds out to her.

“There’s an extra toothbrush in the drawer by the sink,” he says, and she gives him a peck on the cheek as she heads off.

Though they’re both roughly the same height, he’s broader than her, and she has to cinch up the pants as tight as they’ll go. She grins at herself in the mirror, giggling at her reflection. The clothes might be baggy on her, but they’re warm and comfortable and she can smell the faint scent of his laundry detergent and something distinctly Poe lingering in the fabric.

Even through her tiredness, there’s a sweet, almost giddy, feeling just beneath her skin.

Poe enters the bathroom to brush his own teeth, and by the time he’s done, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. She gives him a slow grin when he enters the room, and he returns it easily, his smile sweet.

In minutes, the lights are off and they’re curled up under the covers. He slips a gentle arm around her waist, pulling her close, her back against his warm, strong chest.

“Is this okay?” he asks even as she sighs in contentment, his voice soft, his breath whispering against her ear.

“It’s perfect,” she answers, her voice light, almost dreamy, and she thinks _it really is_. Within moments, she’s asleep.

***

The next morning dawns, but she sleeps right through it. Despite her years of waking up with the sun, by the time she opens her eyes, she can see the bright morning light spilling in around the edges of the curtains.

She’s warm and drowsy, and she smiles as she sees Poe’s handsome face, illuminated by the sunlight, smiling back at her.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still deep and husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” she says, her own voice soft.

“Sleep well?” He reaches his hand out to stroke some hair back from her forehead before resting it on her hand that’s curled in the space between them.

“Very well,” she says, almost bashfully, at the way his eyes gaze upon her face, his look fond. “And you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

They just smile at each other for a long moment, his fingers stroking over her hand, playing with her fingers, until she turns her hand, palm facing up, so she can twine their fingers together.

It’s a sweet and peaceful moment — at least until Rey’s stomach growls and she hides her face in the pillow even as she laughs in embarrassment.

He ducks down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. “How about pancakes?”

She groans in pleasure at the idea, her face still pressed into the pillow, her voice muffled as she says, “Yes, oh my god, I love you.”

His fingers still against hers.

She looks up, but he’s just staring at her, mouth slightly parted —

And he’s not saying anything.

There’s a part of her that worries that she imagined everything about last night.

Then, a smile as bright as the sun blooms across his face, and it’s nothing but warmth and light as he says, “I love you too, Rey Kenobi. I love you, too,” and there’s no room for any darkness inside of her at that look, only pure and utter joy_._

“I love you,” she says again, and when he echoes it back, she chases those words with her mouth, her arms reaching out for him, wanting to hold him close and feel his warmth beside her.

He may think of himself as a man of action, and she knows she’s much the same way. But it’s absolutely lovely, in a way she never could have guessed really, to hear him keep saying those words as he presses kisses to her mouth, to her cheeks and forehead.

Pancakes can wait.

She lets her hands card through his hair, drift down to his neck and dip into the collar of his shirt. He sighs sweetly against the skin of her neck where he’s pressing kisses, but a moment later he’s sitting up to help her pull his shirt over his head, and she takes the opportunity to take hers off too.

She smiles, a little shyly, at the awestruck look that comes over his face, his eyes settling on her own as he looks at her as if he’s seeing her for the first time.

He leans back down, curving his body over hers, his mouth meeting hers once more. It starts slow and sweet, but quickly becomes heated, his tongue slipping into her mouth to trace against her own, and she moans into his mouth.

When he pulls back, his eyes are much darker, and she’s panting as she tries to catch her breath, her skin flushing with warmth as his hand caresses her stomach.

“Can I take you on a date?”

She blinks at the non-sequitur. “Now?”

He laughs, an almost rakish grin appearing on his face if it didn’t look so sweet. “Not now. But dinner? Maybe at a nice restaurant,” and he presses a kiss to her neck, “candlelight,” another kiss to her collarbone, “soft music.”

“That sounds nice,” she says, then gasps as he gently nips at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“I could take you to a show, maybe take you dancing,” he murmurs, pressing more kisses to her skin as he makes his way down her body.

She whimpers as he gets to the waistline of her pants, his fingertips tracing just under the top of the fabric, and she arches her hips up, urging him to continue.

He grins. “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” she breathes, urging her hips up once again to help as he pulls them down her legs.

He presses a kiss to her inner thigh, and looks up at her from beneath lowered lashes, and the only thing she can do is utter a breathy “Please.”

His fingers and mouth are as clever as always, making her writhe beneath him, and she can feel the pleasure growing, heat pulsing through her, but there’s something she wants more than this.

She gently tugs at his hair to encourage him to look up at her, but that only causes him to moan against her core, which leads to her own gasp of pleasure.

She just tugs again, this time gasping, “Wait, wait,” thankful that she can form those words at least.

He stops immediately, a look of concern on his face. She smiles sweetly at him, loving him so much in that moment, even as she slides her hand down from his hair to cup his jaw, stroking her thumb along the wetness shining on his mouth.

“I want you,” she says.

At his look of confusion, she laughs, gently, delightedly. “I want to feel you inside of me. I want to come with you inside of me.”

His eyes widen momentarily, but then he’s crawling up her body, curving over her once more to press a heated kiss to her lips.

She tugs him close, reaches down to his cock and guides him towards her. They moan together as he sinks into her and a part of her wants to close her eyes at the sensation, except she can’t look away from him, the way he’s looking at her like she’s everything, like she’s the world, the galaxy, the moon and the stars, all shining just for him.

He’s moving over her, so slowly, so sweetly, that it feels like the very air around her shivers with pleasure. She strokes her hands down his back, over his shoulder blades and down his spine, feeling the way his muscles ripple under her palms.

He presses a kiss to her mouth, gasping in surprise as she grabs a palmful of his ass in her hands and squeezes, causing his hips to break rhythm and buck into her harder.

This time it’s her who gasps, and the coil of pleasure is growing, tightening ever more, and she wants more, needs more of him, and she pushes against his shoulders until he’s flipped onto his back. He gives a little whimper as he slips out of her, but she just grins devilishly even as she moves to straddle him.

“Miss me already?” she teases, but not really, because she misses him too, misses the way he feels, warm and solid and soft all at once inside of her, even though it’s only been a moment. But then she takes him in hand, notching the head of his cock in her once more.

“Yes,” he gasps out, swallows hard as she finally sinks down, taking him all the way in again. “Always need you.”

They start moving, easily settling into their rhythm, her hips pushing into his over and over again. She can’t tear her eyes away from him, the way a bit of sweat trickles down from his hairline, the way he’s biting his reddened lips, sees his own eyes roving over her face, tracking the path his palm makes as it traces over her shoulders, between her breasts to her hips and back again.

Then, his eyes meet hers. “I love you,” he gasps out, and those words coming from his lips feel so good they send a shiver through her.

When she leans down to kiss him, whispering those words against his mouth, his arms come around her, holding her close, bodies pressed together as he plants his feet into the bed to thrust up into her.

He keeps whispering those words to her as her climax washes over her, and she’s still trembling in his arms as he finds his own completion.

As she comes down, she lies half-sprawled across his chest, reveling in the way he holds her to him so sweetly, feels the warmth of his breath fan across her cheek and hair as he presses gentle kisses to her face.

She delights in the way he holds her, the way they hold each other, talking about anything and everything and nothing, just content to be with each other.

“I love you,” he says again, and she laughs, overjoyed at the way the words sound coming from his lips, the way it makes her feel, like at once she can fly, untethered to anything and everything that could hold her back, while also being rooted to something sturdy and deep and strong.

“I love you,” she tells him, and she does, she’s so absolutely sure of it.

It makes her feel like she can take on the world, and she can’t wait to start this adventure.

***

Several months later, on a warm, sunny day, Rose lopes over to her, raises a camera to her eye and snaps a picture before Rey can even react.

“Rose!” She holds a hand up as if to shield her face even as she laughs. With her other hand, messy as it is, she sets her hamburger, piled high with toppings and probably half the cheese they had brought to the park, back on her plate. She grabs a napkin and wipes at her face. “You couldn’t have waited for a better moment?” She drops the now-saucy napkin back on the picnic table.

“I thought you liked candid photos,” Rose asks, her face a picture of innocence even as her eyes are wicked.

Rey gestures to her face and then the hamburger. Rose just shrugs and runs off laughing, her camera already raised to take a picture of Finn, who is currently on his back in the grass, an excitable, chubby corgi attacking his face with his long tongue.

She grins over at the pair as Rose takes their picture, before looking around at the celebration. It’s her birthday and she’s never felt happier.

That in itself is a bit unusual. Her past birthdays — at least the ones she celebrated, with Finn and Rose, or with Ben Kenobi when he was still alive — were small affairs. A quiet dinner, maybe a movie, sometimes board games or putt-putt with her friends. But she hasn’t always wanted to celebrate her birthday, the reminder that her birth wasn’t enough for her parents to stay always making something dark and painful coil in her gut.

But now . . . now she gets it.

When Rose had asked her what she wanted to do, from her space curled up in Finn’s side as they watched a movie, Rey’s hands had stilled where they had been combing through Poe’s hair, his head resting in her lap.

This year had felt like a rebirth. For once she wanted a celebration.

Five months after Unkar’s arrest, he had plead guilty to all the charges that had been levelled against him. There was a part of her angry that he seemed to be escaping a trial, escaping the part where she could stand in front of everyone and look him in the eye and confront him for all the wrong he had done to her, done to all of them, to people just looking to survive.

But there was a part of her that was relieved. Relieved that her colleagues, especially the ones much younger than herself, wouldn’t have to testify. Relieved that the monster who had stolen parts of their lives wouldn’t be able to steal yet another part, would no longer take up their time or their energy, even though he might linger in their nightmares.

She sat in court the day the judge sentenced him. It wasn’t life, but close to it, and at his age, she figured that Unkar probably wouldn’t see the light of day as a free man ever again.

She sighed as the guards led Unkar away, relieved that it was over, and clasped Poe’s hand in hers even as Rose and Finn offered her hugs. Then, she walked out the doors of the courthouse, Poe and her friends beside her, as she finally left that part of her life behind for good.

With promises to Rose and Finn that they would join them for dinner later, she got into Poe’s car, and an hour later, she was in Luke Skywalker’s studio, making notes and prepping for a series of photoshoots they would be conducting a few weeks later when they traveled to the Ozarks.

She blinks a few times, the memory fading as she returns to the present moment, and grins at her friends milling about her at her birthday party. Kes is standing at the grill and flipping burgers while talking to Snap and Karé, Jess is bickering with Suralinda like usual while Paige just sips at her drink and grins at their antics, and Kaydel and Beaumont are huddled close together exchanging shy smiles.

The last year has been crazy, amazing, wonderful, and absolutely incredible in so many ways.

Sometimes, she still can’t even believe this is her life now.

She’s still grinning as she sees Poe run over to meet someone at their car, coming back with his hands full of something in a white box.

“Is that what I think it is?” She grins, staring at it as Poe places it on the table next to her.

“A wide assortment of vegetables? You bet, and don’t worry, I got extra brussels sprouts. I know how much you love them,” he replies, completely deadpan, before laughing boisterously at her grimace.

He winks at her and lifts the lid, and she sees the colorful, rainbow bright icing as the sweet smell of cream and sugar hits her nose.

Poe’s voice carries over the gathered crowd as he shouts, “Hey, everyone! Time for birthday cake!”

“Not all the burgers are done yet!” Kes’s voice calls back from his spot at the grill.

Poe just grins and shrugs. “Ice cream cake can’t exactly wait. Besides, dessert before the meal has never hurt anyone.”

“You would know,” she winks back at Poe as he starts putting candles on the cake. “You’d probably prefer it if dessert was before _and _after the meal.”

Poe pauses, his eyes widening. “That is the most amazing idea I’ve ever heard,” he practically breathes.

She bursts out in a peal of laughter, and as everyone steps close, Poe pauses before lighting the candles to lift his cup into the air.

“To Rey, the birthday girl, the most amazing, remarkable woman I have ever known. I know this last year has been an absolute whirlwind, but I think I speak for everyone here when I say how much we love you, how proud you make all of us, and how wonderful you are.”

He turns to her, smiling as he says, “Cheers to bright futures and unlimited possibilities!”

She tugs on his sleeve, her face flushed partly with embarrassment, but even more so with happiness, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Her friends are cheering and gathering around her, offering her hugs and compliments, and then the candles are lit, and even as she covers her face with her hands as they sing to her, she’s smiling.

A year ago, her life seemed upside-down, a mixture of pain and misery, and with what seemed to be absolutely insurmountable obstacles in front of her.

Now, as she gazes down at the flickering candles, surrounded by friends and family, warm and loved, she thinks the future looks very bright indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end now, the only thing left is the epilogue! For everyone who has been reading and commenting through it all, thank you so, so much, it really is very much appreciated! <3


	13. Chapter 13

“Hurry up, you’re gonna make us late!”

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying!” Rey calls back to Finn. He’s in the living room waiting with Rose while she finishes getting ready in her bedroom. She adjusts the straps of her (thankfully relatively short) heels before giving herself another once over in her mirror and rushing out of her room.

Finn’s been excited for this night since she had told him about it almost a month ago. He had received the official invitation two days later, but by that point he had already visited six different stores in the Los Angeles area to find, in his words, “the absolutely perfect, most amazing, badass tux you’ve ever seen.”

Then again, she can’t fault his enthusiasm. The first day both she and Rose had free, they ended up visiting ten shops just for a dress before Rose dragged her to a make-up artist so they could decide on “a look.”

She doesn’t even know what that means exactly. But she did end up walking out of there with several new products.

She hastily threw away that receipt. She couldn’t bear to look at the damage. Hopefully she did less damage when it came to actually trying to replicate the “look.”

“Besides,” Rey says as she walks into the living room, doublechecking the contents of her small clutch, “Luke’s not even here yet. I can’t make you late if he’s making us late. Plus, Luke Skywalker can’t be late. The party won’t start without him.”

She’s so busy thinking about ditching her clutch (seriously, it’s the most useless accessory ever, her phone won’t even fit in it) and just stashing everything in her camera cases, that it takes her a moment to realize no one’s responded. She turns, confused, wondering if Finn and Rose had somehow managed to sneak out of her apartment without her noticing. Maybe they wanted to wait outside for the car?

Instead, she comes face to face with a stunned Finn, his jaw agape, while Rose sits next to him, her hands covering her mouth.

Her stomach does a panicked flip at their reactions. She couldn’t have done her make up that badly.

Could she?

“Uhh, guys . . .”

Then, Rose squeals, runs over to her and takes her hands in hers before spinning them around gleefully.

“Wow, Rey. Just . . . wow,” Finn says, walking over to give her a hug.

“Um, what’s going on?”

Finn laughs, and pretends to wipe away a tear from his eye. “My little peanut is all grown up.”

“Seriously Rey, you look so beautiful,” Rose says, before darting in for a hug.

“Jesus, you two! You’re acting like you’ve never seen me in a dress before,” Rey teases, even though she’s equal parts pleased and embarrassed at their reactions. She turns back to her camera bags, ostensibly to check once more that everything was accounted for while she tries to hide her blush. “Don’t even know why you’re all surprised Rose, you helped me pick all of this out.” Rey had insisted on a halter style for her dress instead of strapless, so it would be easier for her to work without worrying about her clothes. Rose had then shown her one with a deep open back, the emerald green color instantly winning Rey’s approval.

“It’s not just that, peanut,” Finn says. While both are good and kind people, usually it’s Rose who’s more adept at the heart to hearts. So, it’s almost a surprise to hear Finn speak. “You look happy. Really, really happy. And free. Like a flower rising to meet the sun after a long rainstorm.”

She stops digging through her bags and looks over her shoulder at Finn, her sweet, sweet Finn, her best friend in the world, and he’s smiling at her like she’s everything.

She can’t help it. She covers the four steps between them in almost an instant, wrapping her arms around his waist as she hugs him and desperately tries not to cry. She’s not sure how she would have made it this last year — these last several years really — without Finn and Rose.

She unwraps one arm from Finn and holds it out to Rose, and Rose eagerly dives in, and the three huddle together in a long embrace until her phone beeps.

She pulls away and wipes at her nose. She doesn’t particularly care if it’s undignified. This is her family. But she looks at her phone and gives a watery grin to Finn. “Our ride’s here.”

Two minutes later and his shout carries down the block. “_You didn’t tell me it was a limo!_”

***

They arrive at the arts center well before the main rush. There’s a handful of paparazzi outside, standing and waiting on the other side of the road from where the news media and main event photographers are currently setting up.

She sees a young girl that she recognizes amongst the paparazzi, a camera in her hand.

Rey may have left that life behind, may have watched with pleasure as Unkar’s operation burned down until it was nothing but ashes. Yet there were a handful of people who, while they had once been bound to his operation like her, continued on in the business.

But at least now they could live free and actually make a decent living on their own terms.

Rey smiles and waves. The girl waves back happily.

“Let’s get set up,” Luke says, ushering her inside the building, Finn and Rose eagerly following.

***

She spends the first half of the evening next to Luke, assisting him with taking photographs of the guests. Or, at least, the big-name guests who would shell out a hearty donation to the arts center in exchange for having a personal portrait taken of them by _the Luke Skywalker_, as she hears more than a few of them whisper excitedly.

She can’t blame them. She had been exactly the same way when she had first met him.

Now though, she’s worked so closely with him these last several months (_it’s almost a year now_, she thinks to herself in astonishment, _when did that happen?) _that she and Luke just exchange a conspiratorial grin as they get ready to take the next round of pictures.

Then it’s his turn to give her a smug grin as she tries to hide her own pleased smile when more than a few of the guests recognize Rey herself.

“I saw some of your work at a gallery a few weeks ago,” a woman in a couture gown that seemed to be a work of art in itself tells Rey once her photographs were done. “I thought it was exquisite, and quite profound.”

Rey can’t quite manage to entirely hide her surprise and glee from the woman. The set of photographs she had submitted were some of the most recent work she had done, and while Luke had critiqued it as any good teacher would, she was grateful for the freedom he had given her to do her own work while apprenticing for him.

Then the woman slips her a card. “I’d like to talk to you about possibly showing some of your stuff in my gallery in New York, if you’d be interested.”

Rey ogles the card and the name on it as the woman walks off, and knows she didn’t hide her glee at all then.

Luke nudges her shoulder. “Don’t look so surprised,” he says. “You earned it.” Then he claps her on the shoulder and twitches his head back towards the waiting guests. “Now back to work.”

Once the line dwindles to nothing, she helps Luke dismantle all the equipment and lug it into a back room to be secured.

Once the work was done, she turns to Luke, a tentative smile already pulling at her lips.

He gives her one look and waves his hand at her. “Alright, shoo, get out of here. We’re done for the night.”

A full smile breaks free and she gives him a little salute. “Roger that, boss!”

He gives her an exhausted sigh, although it’s belied by the amused look in his eyes. “Don’t have too much fun now.”

“Not rogering that, boss!”

She slips out of the room, Luke’s laughter echoing behind her.

She quickly walks down the hallway back to the main room. She had seen Rose and Finn talking with a few guests by the buffet table earlier just before she and Luke had left the room, and hopefully they’ll be easy to find. And she _really_ hopes that they’re still by the buffet table, cause _she’s starving_, and her hand jumps to her stomach as it chooses that moment to let out a loud growl.

She also hopes Poe will be somewhere around her friends. She had heard the loud clamor that always comes with his appearance at events not too long ago. She figures he must have shown up then, though he might still be making the rounds greeting all the guests, since this is his event after all.

Then she turns a corner and hands wrap gently around her biceps although it doesn’t quite stop her from bumping into the chest of the man in front of her.

Then again, judging by his delighted smile, he doesn’t seem to mind that she almost ran him over.

“Poe!” She laughs at the sudden surprise of seeing him. “I was just thinking about you!”

“Really now?” He wraps his arms fully around her, one of his hands running delicately down her spine, the calluses on his fingers catching delightfully on her skin, and she can’t resist the shiver that runs through her. Poe’s grin is knowing, almost predatory, when he notices, and she can feel her heart speed up in her chest and desperately wishes they were home.

With the heady look in Poe’s eyes right now and his fingers running up and down her spine, she’s enormously grateful to Rose for finding the open back dress.

He leans in and gives her a slow, lingering kiss, and she sighs, happily, when he rests his forehead against hers and says, “I love you, you know.”

She pulls back just far enough to look him in the eye and cradle his face in her hands. “I know. I love you, too.”

His smile is sweet and she can’t help but return it. The noise of the crowd from the main room filters down the hallway but otherwise it’s just them, alone in their little bubble.

He runs a finger along her temple, smoothing a piece of hair away from her face before cupping her cheek in his hand. “The speech . . . it still sounds okay to you?”

She nods even as she nuzzles deeper into the warmth of his hand. It’s not the first time he’s asked, nor the fifth. He’s worked hard on crafting it, running ideas and lines and finally the whole speech by her numerous times. She thinks she knows the speech as well as he does by this point. But every time he’s asked her, she just kisses him and tells him it’s perfect.

It’s the truth, after all. She believes in that, in him, entirely. Just like he believes in her.

But she sees that the nerves are getting to him, the tightness around his eyes and the worry line between them giving him away. He’s so used to scripted lines on camera or stage, carefully constructed interviews in some nondescript room or studio somewhere.

But today eclipses all that. Before friends and colleagues, local and state government officials, community organizers, and more than a few wealthy members of society eager to rub elbows with celebrities, Poe will be going on stage to announce the opening of the Shara Bey Community Center and Foundation. On the outskirts of Los Angeles, the center will provide a space for people not only to support the arts, but give them the opportunity to come together and support the community. In particular, the Foundation will work to provide a safe space for children and teenagers impacted by poverty and trauma, as well as providing them the tools and skills to not just overcome, but thrive.

She feels lucky that she’s been able to be a part of this these last several months, and that more than a few of her suggestions have been incorporated into the program. She wishes she had something like this growing up, but at least she can help provide the support she had needed to future generations.

Poe had even asked her to sit on the board, but she had told him no. She has her own life, her own dreams, and she’s well on her way to fulfilling them. But this is Poe’s baby, the result of years of dreams and ideas and work, and she feels so incomprehensibly proud of him, and she tells him so as she adjusts his tie.

After a final kiss for luck, Poe takes the stage as Rey leaves to find Rose and Finn, taking their hands as she watches Poe speak. She knows how much his mother meant to him, and she watches enthralled as he talks of her influence on him, how not only his family but his community had helped save him from his grief, and how art offered him a way to work through his trauma as well as tell stories that he hoped could connect with and help others too.

“Through art, my mother gave me the tools to explore and create and tell stories that far too often go unheard. And through the power of screen and stage, photograph and the written word, we can create connection and compassion in an oftentimes harsh world.

“So this center is dedicated to her and to the millions of people working to make this world a better place,” he says, sweeping his hand out to gesture to the large, spacious room, beyond which sits a small theater and more than enough rooms to host — and help — the community. She clutches Finn and Rose’s hands tighter, as he finally concludes, “So, without further ado, please join me in officially opening the Shara Bey Community Center and Foundation.”

The roar of applause fills the room as the balloons drop from the ceiling. Rey laughs, turning her face upwards. She had suggested many ideas to Poe for the Foundation and the opening event, but she’s the most amused — and more than a little gleeful — that he had incorporated this one in particular. She had always wanted to go to an event where balloons dropped from the ceiling.

She grins as Rose wraps her arms around her, almost shouting in Rey’s ear to be heard above the buzz of the crowd, “This is amazing!”

Rey just laughs again. She knows.

A few minutes later Poe appears in front of her, a giddy smile on his face, and his strong arms wrap her up in a hug as his warm laughter joins with hers.

This really is amazing, she knows. And this is only the beginning.

***

“Okay, now _that’s_ amazing,” she practically moans.

Her feet still hurt from the party last night. She had thought the pair of heels she had worn were low enough to let her escape from the ensuing pain, but she wasn’t as lucky as she had hoped.

Or maybe it’s just cause she rarely wears heels, _those infernal torture traps_.

She groans again as Poe presses his thumbs into her aching arches.

Poe just grins. “Enjoying yourself?”

Rey’s reply practically drips with pleasure. “If you keep spoiling me like this, I may never leave.”

“That’s the plan,” Poe says, smiling, his warm eyes soft and open.

She didn’t think her love and affection for this man could grow anymore, but clearly she had been wrong. They had awoken with the dawn, only a few short hours after they had arrived home from the party, thanks to the inescapable demands of a corgi bladder.

Well, two corgi bladders.

About a month ago, she had come across a young corgi at the local rescue shelter while she was doing a photoshoot to help get the animals adopted, and had fallen in love instantly. She had texted Poe that very moment.

_This house is as much yours as it is mine_, he texted back immediately. _And BB loves having friends._

Two hours later, she was walking into their yard with the new dog eagerly walking ahead of her. BB runs over, with Poe just steps behind, to meet their new family member.

“What are you going to name her?” Poe had asked her, and while Rey took a moment to think it over, she already had an idea for the name, and with a smile, she told him.

“That’s perfect,” Poe replied, before leaning over to rub their new dog’s ears.

BB, for his part, had fallen in love with Ivee instantly, and ever since, the two corgis were inseparable.

Even when Poe and Rey had returned home from the Foundation’s opening, the two corgis were cuddled together sleeping, barely awakening long enough to watch their owners head to bed. Even in the morning, they only disentangled themselves long enough to go outside. As Rey led them into the backyard, wrinkling her nose at the rare cold and drizzly rain falling, she shifted uncomfortably in her slippers. She didn’t think her aching feet would let her get back to sleep. Instead, once the three of them returned inside a few minutes later, Poe, who still seemed to be riding high after a successful event, wrapped her up in a soft blanket and led her to the couch.

Then, he built a fire in the fireplace and went into the kitchen to make pancakes and bacon, all the while she cuddled with BB and Ivee. She kissed the syrup off Poe’s lips and sipped at her tea and snuggled with him on the couch, warm and drowsy and pleasantly full.

When he had pulled her socked feet into his lap, she had initially groaned, protesting the loss of the cozy warmth of the blanket, until it turned into something much more pleasant.

They pass the morning quietly, just talking and cuddling and enjoying each other’s company, and she luxuriates in all the love and affection and care between them. She smiles up at him, thinks she’ll never be able to stop smiling at him. He makes it so easy after all. She pulls herself up until she’s halfway sitting in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder.

She runs her left hand over his collarbone and across his chest, all the while marveling at the silver that glints off her fourth finger. Her eyes soon drop closed though, as he tugs her a little closer, and she arches up until her lips can meet his.

He pulls away, just the smallest bit, to tell her “I love you.”

“I know,” she whispers, playfully, against his lips.

His eyes remain closed even as he lifts an eyebrow. She presses a kiss to the cheek beneath it and is rewarded by the amused tilt of his lips even as that eyebrow remains stubbornly arched upward.

“You know?” His warm brown eyes are practically dancing when he finally opens them, so she just nods and repeats, “I know.”

“You know.” Poe hums and then smiles, and there’s something indescribably happy in his eyes, something incredibly content, in the idea that she _knows_ that he loves her, but there’s something else there too, a hint of mischief, and she has just a moment to be aware that they sit on the edge of the precipice . . .

And then he tips her backwards into the couch, fingers skimming teasingly across her sides until she’s laughing beneath him.

“Oh, you know, huh?” And his fingers may have stopped but he’s pressing quick teasing kisses into her skin, on her face and on her neck and jaw, his voice fond as he asks, “You like teasing the man who loves you?”

She gets his face cradled between her hands and he’s smiling at her and she can’t resist smiling back. Then she just says, “Yes,” and laughs at the look of mock-offense that crosses his face. She loves that she can be playful with him, that she can tease him and be silly. The rest of life can be harsh, but here . . . here she is loved and adored. So, it makes it easy to say to him, “And I love you, too.”

“I know.”

Honestly, she doesn’t know why that answer surprises her. She should have expected that response from him. But for some reason, when she hears it, she can’t resist devolving into peals of laughter, Poe’s answering laughter echoing hers.

She kisses him and it’s less than elegant, all smiling lips and teeth, but it’s everything perfect, and she wraps her arms around him, hooking a leg around his too, eager as always to be close to him. With his hand on her hip and the other in her hair and his laughter in her mouth, she knows it’s the same for him.

She can’t believe what the last few years have brought her, the pain, the pleasure, the suffering and celebration.

Now, he’s promised her forever.

And she’s never felt so free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for "Paparazzi," friends! Thank you for reading and for all your lovely feedback, it's always much appreciated!


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